


Drabbles

by Irenka



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: All the happy things GRRM dislikes and (most) shippers love, Babies, Bad English, Did I mention fluff?, F/M, Fluff, Friendship, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-14
Updated: 2016-11-21
Packaged: 2018-02-17 08:10:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 47
Words: 116,880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2302661
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Irenka/pseuds/Irenka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some drabbles/one shots I wrote for my friend(s). Don't expect quality. English is not my first language, you have been warned.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. It’s raining cats and dogs

**Author's Note:**

  * For [theconstantprincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/theconstantprincess/gifts), [bookskitten](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bookskitten/gifts).



 

It was fifteen minutes past two in the morning according to the pig shaped clock that never failed to put a smile on Arya’s face. She had been studying, or trying to study at least, for more than four hours now, but she just couldn’t concentrate anymore, especially since it started to rain. Her brain and her eyes were too tired to continue, and the sound of the rain was lullying her to sleep.

 

"More coffee?" The middle-aged waitress asked her with a kind smile.

 

The best thing about Hot Pie’s Corner, apart from the location and the twenty four hour service, was its “all the coffee you can drink for five bucks” offer. The owner understood the students and their pockets pretty well.

 

"Please." Arya smiled back. No matter how tired or angry or sad she was, she would always offer a smile to any person, stranger or not, who tried to help her. Her father had taught her that.

 

"Do you have an umbrella with you?"

 

Arya shook her head. 

 

"Oh my, you can take mine if you like, my shift ends at eight, I don’t think this rain will last that long."

 

"Thank you, but I rather stay and wait, I don’t live that far from here anyway."

 

"You sure?"

 

"Yes, thank you."

 

"Alright," the woman took a couple of sugar packets out of her apron’s pocket and put them over the table, "enjoy your coffee!"

 

"I will."

 

As Arya took sips of the hot beverage, she looked out of the window. Her favorite booth at Hot Pie’s Corner gave her a perfect view of the streets and, if she moved her body a little, she could even see her dormitory from there. She entertained herself by watching how the few passersby who were still out tried to escape from the rain. After a few minutes, the streets were completely empty. 

 

Absently, she started to follow with her fingertip the patterns the raindrops were making on the window. She was so tired and lost in her thoughts, that when a figure appeared suddenly on her field of vision, she got a bit startled. The figure then slipped a few steps before reaching the door, falling fast and hard to the ground, losing his umbrella in the process. Arya couldn’t help but laugh when the figure, a guy who looked a few years older than her, stood up quickly looking around to see if someone had been witness to his misfortune.

 

For a reason she would never be able to explain, she ran to the door and opened it for him.

 

“Are you all right?” She asked him.

 

"Did you see that?" He placed his big umbrella on the holder next to the door.

 

"I did." The second thing Arya noticed about him were his gorgeous blue eyes. 

 

"Fuck, that was embarrasing." He cursed, trying to shake off the water from his hair and clothes and rubbing his boots on the mat.

 

"It was." A smile appeared on her lips. "It was funny too."

 

"You’re so courteous, m’lady." He teased her.

 

"Does it hurt?" She asked him, pointing discreetly at his wet backside.

 

"Not much. My pride hurts the most."

 

Arya laughed for a moment and then bit her lip. “Well, I’m glad you’re fine.”  _Really, -really- fine._  She went back to her booth, a bit disappointed when he didn’t stop her nor asked for her name.  _Oh, for fuck’s sake! Don’t be pathetic!_  She told herself. She grabbed her book and forced herself to continue reading.

 

"Is this seat taken?" 

 

Arya looked up slowly from her book, not believing her eyes and ears. The handsome guy with the wet backside was standing in front of her, waiting for her answer. He must have taken her slightly shocked expression the wrong way.

 

"Um, I see you’re busy, I’ll sit somewhere else."

 

 _Wake the fuck up, Arya!_  “Wait, no, stay, please.”  _Ugh, I’m a fucking idiot!_

 

"Really? Aren’t you busy?"

 

"No way, I was just reading some boring stuff."

 

He sat down in front of her and extended his right hand. “I’m Gendry.”

 

Arya hoped her hand wasn’t too sweaty. “I’m Arya, nice to meet you.” When their hands touched, Arya felt like she was going to poop rainbows and butterflies. _Poop rainbows and butterflies? Really? That’s disgusting!_

 

But he must have felt something similar, since he blushed a little and took a bit too long to let go of her hand.

 

They started to talk, of this and that, of nothing and everything. The conversation flowed easily and next thing they knew, they were ordering sandwiches and more coffee and even dessert before dawn. 

 

Her cheeks and belly hurt from laughing too much and her throat was sore for talking almost non stop since he sat in front of her. He was funny and grumpy and a bit stupid. She liked his smile, it was honest and kind. She liked his bushy eyebrows and big hands. She liked him.

 

She was doomed.

 

*****

 

_Oink, oink, oink, oink…_

 

The silly sound interruped their conversation.

 

It was now eight o’clock in the morning. The piggy’s grunts let the employees know that one shift had ended and a new one was starting.

 

 _Time passes really fast when you are happy,_  she considered.

 

"If you want, I can walk you to your dormitory."

 

Arya looked outside. The weather proved the waitress wrong. It was still raining, although it was just a drizzle. “Sure, I would like that.”

 

Since she didn’t have a coat, he offered her his jacket. He placed it over her shoulders, adjusting the garment gently to her small figure. It was too big for her, but it would do the job just fine. 

 

And even though his umbrella was large enough to cover the two without much trouble, he made sure they walked really close to each other all the way to her building. To prove she wasn’t imagining things, she tried to put a bit of distance between them more than once. He stopped her each time by pulling her gently by the elbow. ‘ _Stay close, you don’t want to get wet,’_ he told her every time she tried to move away from him. She bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. She felt so silly.

 

They finally said goodbye in front of her buidling. Arya wasn’t a shy girl, but she didn’t know exactly what to say to let him know she wanted to see him again, to ask him if  _he_  wanted to see  _her_  again.

 

She stood by the door, watching him walk away. She hugged herself for a moment and that was when she felt it. “Wait! Gendry!”

 

He stopped and turned around. “Yes?”

 

"Your jacket!"

 

"Keep it! That way I’ll have an excuse to see you again," he smiled.

 

Her heart started to beat faster.  _Just do it!_

 

She ran down the front steps and continued running until she was in front of him. She refused to look at him for a moment, biting her lip. When she looked up, his hopeful expression was all the encouragement she needed to do what she had to do. Arya stood on the tip of her toes and gave him a quick peck on the lips. ”Now you have a better excuse to see me again.”

 

He laughed. “I think I can come up with a better one.”

 

"Which is?" She was genuinely curious.

 

He hugged her close and lifted her up a little, kissing her hard on the lips for the gods know how long.

 

_That’s definitely a better excuse._

 

 

_**(Some months later)** _

 

They had planned to go out, but the sudden storm took them by surprise forcing them to stay at his place.

 

It didn’t bother them. It was a blessing in disguise actually.

 

"Fuck, Gendry!" She was panting, moving incenssantly on top of him. "Yes, yes, yes…"

 

He groaned, grasping her hips, caressing her breasts, touching her between her legs.

 

"There, don’t stop," she bit her lip the way she knew made him mad with lust. "Don’t you dare to stop!"

 

He didn’t stop, but he did change his position, sitting up so his mouth could be closer to her breasts. “I won’t, m’lady,” he said before sucking her nipples the way she liked it. 

 

"Gen!" When the sensation became too much, she pulled his mouth away from her breasts, but didn’t allow his lips to rest for long. She kissed him, and kissed him hard. Biting, sucking, licking, everything was allowed in their kissing game. She hugged him close to her, encouraging him to go faster, deeper. "You feel too good. I love the way you feel inside me," she would tell him when she knew they were getting close. "I love you, Gen." That always did the trick.

 

His hips moved faster, his arms hugged her tighter, and his lips became even hungrier. Then it was over. Arya followed him a moment later.

 

He didn’t let her go after they were done, he never did. He would always keep her close for at least a couple of minutes telling her how much he loved her and how much he liked her… unless they were too tired, then they would playfully congratulate each other for their good job and drop to bed immediately, satisfied and exhausted.

 

Right now, they were sweaty and almost without breath, but also content.

 

Her head was resting comfortably on his shoulder, her right hand was tucked against her chest, the other was busy tracing patterns on his wet chest. A memory hit her in that moment and she laughed.

 

"What’s so funny?"

 

"You." She looked at him.

 

"Me? Why? What did I do?"

 

"I was remembering when I saw you for the first time."

 

"That’s not funny, m’lady. I could have hurt myself real bad."

 

"Stupid." Her expression went from happy to serious in a second.

 

"What is it, love?" He asked her. 

 

"When I talked to you the first time I became very sad, you know?

 

"Really? Why?"

 

He was worried, Arya knew, but she couldn’t help but tease him a little.

 

"Because I knew I had fallen in love with a silly idiot."

 

The worried look on his face disappeared almost immediately once he realized she was teasing him. “So, was it love at first sight then?” He asked her, turning on his side, his face was a few inches away from hers.

 

"Oh, definitely." She placed her free hand over his hip. "Once I took a look at your backside," she said caressing his butt, "I knew I could never let you go."

 

"You’re a pervert, Arry."

 

"Oh, that I am. But don’t blame me, it’s just that you have the most beautiful butt I have ever seen."

 

"You’re such a romantic, m’lady." He pulled her close to him. "Honestly, yours is cuter."

 

She laughed and, as Gendry started to shower her neck with kisses, she said a little prayer to the old gods so the rainy season would last longer than usual.

 

 

**_(Ten years later)_ **

 

In Gendry’s dream, something was poking his eyes and pinching his cheeks and nose without mercy.

 

"Papa, papa, wake up!" The voice whispered with insistence.

 

 _Not something, someone,_  he thought, still half asleep

 

"Gendry, your daughter needs you." His wife mumbled.

 

"What is it, sweetie?" He asked her, still with his eyes closed.

 

"There’s a monster in my room, go kill it!"

 

 _She’s as demanding as her mother._  “A monster?”

 

"Yes. It’s hairy and big and noisy and it has a red nose, like grandpa Bob."

 

His wife snorted at that. She turned around and hugged him from behind. “The last monster that appeared in her room looked like Jon,” she whispered in his hear, “don’t take it to heart.” He smiled when he felt her warm lips kiss him below his ear.

 

A flash of lightning, followed after some time by a loud rumble of thunder, made his daughter jump into their bed, and then he understood.  _A storm is coming._  Their little girl wasn’t very fond of them. In fact, the only time the monsters seemed to appear on her bedroom was whenever a storm fell during the night.

 

He took a sitting position and tried to bring his daughter closer to him to embrace her. 

 

"There’s no time for hugs, papa." She stopped him, placing her little hands against his chest. "You have to kill the monster before it escapes."

 

"I have a better idea, why don’t you stay here? Your mama and I will protect you from the monster."

 

His daughter looked at him with suspicion. “Papa, are you afraid?”

 

His wife laughed. 

 

"No, but-"

 

"Oh Gendry, for the gods’ sake, don’t be lazy and go kill the monster!"

 

He took a deep breath and finally stood up. Before he walked out of the room, his little girl stopped him. “Wait, papa!” She was standing on the edge of the bed.”

 

"Be careful, Lya." His wife said.

 

The girl grabbed the small plastic sword she had left on the nightstand. “Here, papa, you can take my sword.”

 

"Oh this is nice, who gave it to you?"

 

"Auntie Mya."

 

"Well, I gotta go, wish me luck!"

 

"Papa, don’t go yet!"

 

He let out a groan. “Now what?”

 

"Come here."

 

He walked a couple of steps.

 

"Closer, papa!"

 

He stood in front of her. “What is it now?”

 

She roughly tugged his arm, forcing him to bend down a little. His little girl was strong for her age. She gave him a kiss on the cheek.

 

"What was that for?"

 

"It’s for good luck, papa." 

 

"And who taught you that?" He frowned and crossed his arms. 

 

"Uncle Bran read me a story in which the princess kissed the prince for good luck before he left to fight the dragons."

 

Gendry and Arya shared a curious look. “Oh really?”

 

"Yeah, I thought that was really stupid, but I love you too much to let you go without a good luck kiss."

 

_That’s my girl._

 

"Now kiss mama!" She demanded.

 

"As m’lady commands."

 

"Don’t call me that, papa!"

 

He moved to give his wife a hungry kiss that lasted too long for his daughter’s taste.

 

He finally walked out of the room, leaving the door half-open, and stayed there for a few minutes. 

 

When the rain and the constant thunders became too much for his girl to handle, she slipped under the blankets, looking for her mother’s comfort. His wife cuddled their girl close to her chest and kissed her several times on the forehead.

 

"Mama?"

 

"Yes, Lya?"

 

"I don’t like the rain."

 

"I love it."

 

Lya lifted her head and looked at her mother’s face with awe. “You do? Why?”

 

The look on his daughter’s little face tugged at his heartstrings. He loved her fiercely. He loved them more than anything.

 

"Because the rain it’s good for us. It gives us water to wash our clothes, water to drink…"

 

His daughter didn’t look very convinced.

 

"…we need water to swim, don’t you like swimming?"

 

Lya smiled. “I do, I do!”

 

"See? If you like swimming, then you have to like the rain. Those are the reasons why I like the rain, but do you want to know why I love it?"

 

She nodded.

 

"Because thanks to the rain I had the chance to meet your papa," she said, caressing her daughter’s chubby cheek.

 

The little girl gasped. “Did papa fall from the sky?”

 

His wife smiled. “Um, something like that, he certainly fell to the ground.”

 

Gendry chuckled, remembering his bad luck… or good luck, really.

 

"Mama?"

 

"Mm?"

 

"I know another reason to like the rain."

 

"Really? Tell me."

 

"The rain gives us cats and doggies," she said, a solemn expression on her cute face.

 

"Oh, I didn’t know that."

 

"It’s true! When there’s a storm, grandpa Ned always says that  _'it's raining cats and dogs.'_  I always look for them after the rain stops, but I can never find them, I guess other kids must have caught them first. Uncle Jon said he’s going to get me a puppy for my next birthday.”

 

"Oh, he did?"

 

"Yes, and papa said-"

 

"I’m back! I got rid of the monster!" Gendry interrupted the conversation for his sake.

 

Arya looked at him with narrowed eyes. Lya started clapping.

 

When the three were finally settled, Gendry hugged his ladies close to him. 

 

The rain continued to fall.

 

 


	2. Flowered (BWB AU 1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Brotherhood Without Banners AU
> 
> Inspired by a cute doodle I saw on Tumblr.

It happened when she was thirteen.

Arya wasn’t very well informed on the matter. She was unaware of almost all the consequences it could bring for her.

Almost.

They were staying at Acorn Hall. The Brotherhood was paying its monthly visit to Lady Smallwood in order to rest properly for a few days, get provisions and hear the latest news from the realm. Not that many news reached the small keep.

*

"Why do they always send us away?" She asked, standing at the top of an old wooden ladder.

Gendry raised his head and gave her a confused look. “What do you mean?”

"Haven’t you noticed?"

He shook his head in response.

"As soon as Lady Smallwood starts talking about what’s happening in the Riverlands and King’s Landing, Harwin always tells us to go and find something useful to do. Two months ago, he sent us to find wood; last month, he asked us to brush the horses, and now this," she said, waving her free hand around, "picking apples."

Gendry shrugged his shoulders. “Well, at least we can eat them.”

"I thought Hot Pie had stayed in the Kneeling Man," she told him. "You are always thinking with your stomach these days."

"What can I say, m’lady? All the hard work makes me hungry."

"If you say so. How many more do we need?"

Gendry turned around to look at the basket. “Hmm… I think five more and we’ll be done.”

"Good. I don’t even like apples," she said, picking the last ones.

"Better apples than bugs and worms."

"Shut up!"

"As m’lady commands."

Arya rolled her eyes. “Stupid.”

He moved to pick up his vest and tunic from the grassy ground while Arya descended from the ladder, jumping off from the third step. Just as Gendry was about to put on his clothes, he heard a gasp escape from her lips. “What hap—" He froze. Arya was looking at him, but she wasn’t watching him, her sight wasn’t focused on anything, if that was possible.

"Gendry… I— I think I flowered.” She said, whispering, and looked down at her stained breeches.

He didn’t know what to do, what to say, what to think. Knowing her as well as he did, he wasn’t sure if she would welcome his help, but her expression told him that she needed him. He dropped his vest and tunic and walked towards her. “Does it hurt?”

"No, it doesn’t hurt."

"Can you walk?"

Arya frowned. “What? Of course I can walk!”

"Oh, well then, what do you need?"

"I’ve to clean this mess and I have to change my clothes without them noticing."

"What? Why?"

"Because it’s embarrasing! Besides, if the Brotherhood finds out that I’ve flowered, they will not want me anymore. Lord Beric will force me to stay here with Lady Smallwood, I’m sure of it."

Gendry knew she was right and, even if it was selfish, his first thought was that he didn’t want Arya to stay in Acorn Hall. They belonged together. And his place was with the Brotherhood. “What if they try to find a husband for you?”

Arya looked at him, her eyes wide open. “That would be even worse. Gendry, promise me that you won’t say anything.”

"I won’t, I promise."

"And promise me that if they try to find me a husband, you will help me to get rid of him."

"I will, don’t worry."

Arya untucked her tunic, trying to cover the front of her breeches, and nodded. “This will have to do. Can you see anything?”

"No."

She sighed. “Let’s go.”

**

Arya went to bed early that day, she couldn’t deal with their curious stares. Her plan would have been successful if it wasn’t for one of the maids who found her while she was trying to clean her clothes.  _Stupid, stupid, stupid, stu—_  A soft knock on the door interrupted her thoughts. She closed her eyes, pretending to be asleep.

"Arya?"

And then she opened them. It was Gendry. She stood up quickly and opened the door. “Come in,” she invited him to enter.

"I don’t think it’s proper now that—”

"Oh, shut up," she took him by the collar of his tunic and pulled him inside the small chamber.

They sat side by side at the edge of the bed.

"I noticed that you didn’t touch your food, so I saved you this." He offered her a piece of sweet bread, clumsily enveloped in his worn out hankie, he knew it was her favorite. She looked at it, but didn’t take it. "C’mon, take it, I promise you I didn’t touch it, well, not too much," he smiled, trying to lighten the mood, but his smile soon disappeared. The expression on her face made him feel something he still couldn’t explain, a feeling he hadn’t experienced many times, and that only happened when she was close to him. It wasn’t bad, it was just different. "What is it?"

Arya closed her eyes tightly and rested her head on his shoulder. She was crying.

Slowly, Gendry placed one of his arms around her shaky shoulders and put his head atop hers. He didn’t say anything.

"I don’t want to stay here."

"I know."

"I want to continue traveling with the Brotherhood, I want to shoot arrows with Anguy and play horse racing with Harwin, I… I want to stay with you."

"I know," he sighed. "But it won’t be so bad, you know? You’ll be warm and safe here, you’ll eat three times a day and sleep on a real bed every night."

"I don’t care." She tried to put some distance between them.

"And you’ll take a bath everyday." She continued trying to get away from him, but he didn’t let her. "But you know what will be the best thing? That soon there will be a new blacksmith in Acorn Hall." She stopped moving when she heard his last words and looked at him with a hopeful expression. He tried his best not to smile.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you think it means?"

"Are you staying here?"

He nodded, a shy look on his face.

"Good." She placed her head on his shoulder one more time. "You are not a very good swordsman, without me you would be doomed, it’s better for you to stay here."

Gendry chuckled. “Thank you for your concern. Now,” he offered her the bread again, “eat this.”

Feeling slightly better, Arya took the piece of sweet bread and started nibbling on it, trying to hide the smile that formed on her lips.

***

Once she finished eating, Gendry stood up from the bed and wished her goodnight.

"Thank you, Gendry."

"You’re welcome."

She followed him and, before he opened the door, asked him a question. “And what if they try to arrange a marriage for me? What if they try to marry me to a stranger.”

"Don’t worry, I won’t let that happen, I would marry you first," he told her, half joking, half serious. When he noticed the blush on her cheeks, his silly heart skipped a beat.

"Alright," she said, looking everywhere but at him.

"Night, Arya."

She finally looked into his eyes and said, “Goodnight,  _my_  lord.”

Her cheeky smile was the last thing he saw before she closed the door.


	3. Name day (BWB AU 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy, if you can. :P

"There she is," he muttered to himself. Gendry had been desperately looking for Arya around the keep for more than two hours, he was beginning to panic and it wasn’t the first time that that happened. For the last four weeks, she had fell into -what he considered- the bad habit of going on walks by herself. He didn’t like it… especially because they used to do it together. "I thought something bad had happened to you! Where were you?" He asked her as soon as their eyes made contact. He was hurt to see that the little smile that adorned her face disappeared when she saw him.

"I went on a walk." She answered him while she tried to hide something in the old satchel bag she had ‘inherited’ from Lady Smallwood’s son.

"Really? For more than two hours? Where did you go?"

"Ugh, you are so annoying, leave me alone!" She walked hurriedly towards the keep.

"I’m not annoying, I’m worried!"

"Worried about what?"

He frowned. “I’m worried for you.”

"Why?"

"You know why."

Arya took a deep breath and stopped walking just as they were passing by the forge. She knew what he was talking about and didn’t want to discuss it. It was stupid, really, he was making a big deal out of nothing and would know that very soon. “Come,” she said, using her command voice, and took him by his forearm, “sit,” she pused him into the nearest bench inside the smithy.

"As m’lady commands."

Arya rolled her eyes. “You are so stupid, you ruin everything,” she told him, shaking her head.

"What?!" He tried to stand up, obviously offended, but she pushed him down by the shoulders.

"Just listen to me, please."

Gendry was shocked, she never used the word please with him, something was definitely wrong. “Yes, m’lady,” he said, half bitter, half worried.

Arya bit her lip to stop her mouth from saying -what he might consider- an offensive retort. “Do you remember the conversation we had the other day?”

"The other day? When exactly?" He shook his head. "Arya, you have been avoiding me for the last four weeks and—"

Arya smiled and interrupted him. “You’ve been counting them?”

"Ye— No!”

"Yes, you have." She took a step closer to him, almost standing between his long legs. "Do you remember when I asked you about your name day?" He nodded, slightly embarrased. "And how you told me that you didn’t have one, well, that you couldn’t remember the exact date, that you never had a proper celebration or received a gift."

"Yes, I remember," he gave her a curious look, "and?"

She hesitated for a moment, her eyes focused on her dirty boots, she wasn’t sure if he would find the gesture offensive or not.  _Don’t be stupid now, just do it,_  she said to herself. ”Well, I thought about it and decided that I want to change that,” she told him looking directly into his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

"You’ll see." She opened her old bag and, very carefully, took out a very poorly wrapped present. "I wanted to give it to you on a more significant date, but since you are so nosy and annoying and won’t leave me alone, today will have to be that day. Happy name day, Gendry!" She said, smiling, and offered him the small bundle.

Gendry took it from her hands and held it as if it was made of something extremely delicate and frail. In a matter of seconds, tears started to cloud his eyes. His mouth couldn’t form the right words and his mind went blank for a moment; only his heart continued working properly. That part of him never felt empty, hurt or out of place since Arya became a part of his life and he found a new purpose within the Brotherhood. “I wish my words could express my feelings, I wish you could hear what my heart wants to say, but you know well how stupid I am, so all I can say is that I’ll treasure this forever,” he finally pronounced.

Arya frowned. “So, what are you waiting for?”

"What?" He was confused.

"Do you think that’s your present?" She told him, with a big smile on her lips.

"Isn’t it?"

She started to laugh loudly. “No, stupid, you have to unwrap it to find the real present.”

"Oh."

His ears and cheeks went red and she found it endearing. For some reason, Arya found many aspects of him to be annoying and stupid and lovable and endearing and…  _Stop it!_  She felt like an idiot for thinking like that about him, but she couldn’t help it and, if she had to be honest, she didn’t want to stop either. As he started to slowly untie the old rag that concealed his present, she began to bite her lip. She was nervous and he was moving his fingers painfully slow. Arya couldn’t wait to know if he would like it or not. She had made her best effort and, even if she knew that it wasn’t as beautiful as it could be, she was sure that he would appreciate it.

Just before he untied the last knot, he raised his head and looked at her. “Stop doing that,” he said, touching softly her lower lip with his thumb, “your poor lip doesn’t deserve the punishment.”

And now it was her turn to blush. She was this close to bite his finger just to avoid the awkward moment and stop the weird sensation that was forming in her tummy. She decided that a punch on his shoulder would do the job just fine.

"Ouch! Why did you do that?"

"So you can stop acting stupid."

Gendry just sighed and when he finally discovered what his present was, he couldn’t help the smile that formed on his lips. He kept the smile as he looked at her.

"What?"

He arched one of his eyebrows. “Did you make it?”

"Y— Yes, I did.”

"That’s why you were acting so secretive lately."

"Yes," she said, her expression a bit shy.

His smile only grow bigger, but she took it the wrong way.

"Are you making fun of me? Of it? Give it to me! I knew it was stupid!" She tried to take the handkercheif from his hand, but he didn’t let her. Instead, he stood up and hugged her close. She tried to escape from his embrace, but Gendry didn’t allow it. If he could, he would never let her go, she was sure of it. She let him held her, but she kept a bit of distance between them, she wanted to be able to see his face.

"It’s not stupid," he said, his voice was deep and calm, "I like it a lot."

"Liar!"

"Why would I lie, Arya? It’s the first present that I’ve ever received in my life. And it’s the first time that I have proof that someone really cares about me."

"You think that I don’t care about you? Have you always needed something like this to truly believe that someone cares for you?"

He shook his head. “No, I know you care for me, but this,” he held the handkercheif close to his face, “this is something yours that I’ll always have with me, to feel you close when we are apart.”

Her body betrayed her and, before she could discuss it with her mind, she rested her head on his chest.

"They can take you away from me," he continued, "but they will never have this," there was a tone of resignation in his voice.

_They? Who is he talking about?_  She was confused. “Don’t be silly, no one will take me away from you, from here. No friend or foe is looking for Arya of House Stark anymore,” she mumbled against his vest.  
  
"I wouldn’t be so sure of that."

"Gendry, stop talking nonsene."

"Alright," he sighed deeply. "Where did you get the fabric?"

Arya smiled against his chest. “I cut a piece from the underskit Lady Smallwood got me recently.”

"You did what?" Her response took him by surprise and he let her go.

"It doesn’t matter, I never wear it anyway," she shrugged, "I gave it a better use." She offered him one of the cheeky smiles he liked so much.

"I suppose you are right."

"I’m always right."

"I know that already, m’lady."

"Good." After that, everything went uncomfortably quiet too fast. Arya didn’t like it and looked around trying to find something to talk about, and that was when she noticed that he had his ‘thinking face’ on. "What is it? What’s giving you trouble?"

"Nothing really, I’m just curious."

"About what?"

"I know that you don’t enjoy doing this kind of thing," he told her, pointing at his new handkerchief and the embroided desing on it, "so I wonder what gave you the idea."

"Well, you are always sweaty and your old hankie is just useless at this point and…" her expression turned sad as she was invaded by her memories, "my father used to say that the greater the effort you put into doing something, the greater will be the reward and the sense of accomplishment and, when that something is done for someone else, the meaning behind it is stronger and the feeling you want to transmit to that other person will run deeper and last longer." She spoke her last words so softly that she wasn’t sure he had heard them.

But he did.

He dried the tears she wasn’t aware she had shed with his thumbs and held her close to him again. She didn’t resist this time.

"Your father was right."

"He was always right."

He smiled at that. “You Starks are always right.”

A quick laugh escaped from her and then everything went quiet again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable, just peaceful. Arya decided that she wanted to hug him as well and, slowly but surely, placed her arms around him. He was so warm and gentle, so strong and full of calm, the feeling his embrace gave her was almost the same she felt when her father or Jon had held her.  _Almost_ , because she knew she felt something else. Something that she was just beginning to understand.

They stood there holding each other contentedly, forgetful of the rest of the world. They were so lost in their own thoughts and feelings, that they never heard when the Brotherhood arrived to Acorn Hall.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Tom said out loud, a knowing smirk on his face. "You are lucky Lem wasn’t the one who found you, you know?"

Gendry tensed immediately and he loosened his hold a little, but Arya felt it and didn’t let him go. She acted quickly and reached for the first thing she could grab from the workbench and before Tom could react, she threw it at him.”

"Ouch! Fuck that hurt!"

"Get out!" She yelled, her command voice was back.

And the man followed her order.

"Hey, be careful with my tools."

"Shut up, Gendry." Arya rested her head on his chest once more. "Just shut up."

"Yes," he held her tightly, " _my lady_.”


	4. Smile (BWB AU 3)

"You are not supposed to be here." The woman said, holding a basket against her chest and walking towards the big wooden table at the center of the room. "And what are you doing?" She asked, furrowing her brow.

"Cutting potatoes, isn’t it obvious?" She spat. Arya liked the woman, she was the only servant who didn’t treat her as the delicate highborn lady she was supposed to be, she enjoyed conversing with her, but this time she wasn’t in the mood to talk. In fact, she hadn’t been talking much since Gendry left, and she hadn’t been eating or sleeping much either.  _You really are stupid,_  she told herself.

"Cutting? Hm!" The cook moved around the kitchen, not giving much thought to her words. "Stabbing potatoes you mean."

Arya held her tongue and continued cutting the vegetables.

"Are you worried about that pretty lad of yours?"

"I’m not, he can take care of himself."  _I should have gone with them, if only to protect him._

"Are you sure?"

"Yes. And he’s not a pretty lad."  _He’s more than that._

"Aye, he’s not, he’s a handsome young man."

Arya rolled her eyes. “ _And_ ,” she emphasized the word, “he’s not mine _._ ”

"Really? That is good to know, someone will be very happy to hear that." The woman smiled to herself when the cutting sound suddenly stopped.

"Who?" Arya questioned, the tone of her voice was low and calm, she was trying really hard to sound indifferent, but the cook was no fool.

"Oh, just some girl." The woman said casually, but with a clear purpose in mind. "Don’t worry about your friend, he’s a fine lad and she’s a wonderful, hard working girl, they will make a good match." The cutting sound started again, louder and harsher this time, and the woman had to bit her lip to stop herself from laughing.

"Gendry is stupid, he doesn’t care about girls, the only thing he loves is the forge," she said bitterly, remembering how Gendry had stopped her advances more than once. He was always willing to hug her and hold her hand, but every time Arya tried to get something more from him, he always refused her. Arya couldn’t truly understand why, but many different reasons always came to her mind to torment her.  _He only sees you as his good friend… Maybe he thinks of you as his little sister,_  this one was the worst. “You better tell this girl not to waste her time, he doesn’t care about love.”

The woman dragged a sturdy looking stool and sat beside Arya. “Be careful with your words, child,” she told her, placing one of her warm, overworked hands over Arya’s cold ones, “you don’t want them to be true.”

Arya gulped, the cook was right.

"He’s doing this for you, you know?"

"Getting himself killed?" She chuckled, a bitter smile on her face." I didn’t ask him to do that."

"No, you didn’t, but he wants to make a name for himself."  
  
"But why?" The desperation was present in her voice and expression.

 _You know why,_  the woman wanted to say, but she knew that the girl’s stubborn character wouldn’t let her see nor acknowledge the truth. She had to help her, at least once. “Because he wants to feel worthy of you.” The woman shushed Arya when she tried to interrupt her. “And because he loves you.”

Arya stared at the woman with wide eyes, believing her words even if her mind told her not to. “He loves me?” She spoke softly, almost whispering.

"He does, my girl. It’s the keep’s worst-kept secret. He can’t hide his feelings and you, my dear, are not very good at hiding them either."

Arya’s cheeks went red and she focused her sight on the table. She was happy and embarrased and she just couldn’t meet the woman’s eyes.

The cook gently grasped the girl’s chin between her fingers, lifting her face towards her. “Look at me.” Arya did as she was told. “Men are prideful creatures. Rich men can dream of becoming many things and they also have many things to cherish and lose, but poor men?” The woman shook her head, “They don’t have that priviledge. Pride is the only thing they own and it’s their most valuable possesion. Don’t shame him for wanting to be the kind of man a woman,  _a lady_ , can be proud of.”

"I’m not a lady, why can’t you understand that?"

"Because you are, no matter how much you refuse to believe it. Underneath your boy clothes and dirty boots, behind your harsh words and unladylike manners, you are still very much a lady. We all see Lady Arya Stark every time you teach someone how to read, every time you help milady Smallwood to write letters or make calculations about how much food we’ll need. And I," the cook gave her a soft, loving look, "I see a capable, beautiful young woman who perhaps is not the proper lady highborn girls are taught to be, but the kind they  _should_  be.”

Arya’s eyes filled with tears and when the woman hugged her against her chest, she let them flow free.

"There, there, don’t cry," she told her, patting her back. "Your parents must be very proud of you, wherever they are," she assured her. "And don’t worry about your handsome blacksmith, he’ll be back soon, you’ll see. He’s too stubborn to not come back." The woman stood up suddenly, quickly drying her eyes with her apron and taking Arya by surprise. "Look at this mess," she said, pointing towards the chunks of potatoes spread all over the table, "I want you out of my kitchen right now, I lost almost all my patience thirty years ago when I got married and the little patience I have left is for milady, so you better leave before I decide to hit you with my ladle."

Arya smiled, knowing it was just an empty threat. Just before she walked out of the door, she turned around and said, “I’m already proud of him.”

"I know. And he should know as well."

Arya nodded once and left.

*

She didn’t know where to go.

Her chamber offered her the peace and silence she wanted so much, but the room’s cold walls and its lack of light made her feel trapped. The dinning hall was the warmest and most spacious place inside the keep, but it was always filled with people; she didn’t want to be there. _I could go to the apple grove, no one will bother me there,_  she thought.  _Or maybe I should go further into the woods and once there, if I close my eyes long enough, I could pretend I’m back at home, in the godswood._  She considered the option for a moment, before remembering that she had promised Gendry she wouldn’t go beyond the keep’s walls.  _He promised me he would be back in a couple of weeks and he’s been gone for over a month, why should I keep my promise when he couldn’t keep his? And what if he’s injured or worse?_  Arya shook her head. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath trying to calm herself and keep her mind away from such worrisome thoughts.  _I’m going to the forge,_  she finally decided.

No other place in Acorn Hall made her feel warm, happy and peaceful at the same time.

She wondered if in his abscense she would feel the same way.

She didn’t. As she walked around the forge, looking and touching the tools and noticing the light layer of dust that now covered them, she realized that it wasn’t the place what made her feel happy and calm. It was him. Gendry was the cause of her happiness, of most of it, at least. She smiled, finally understanding just how much he meant to her, and sat in the workbench. “I’ll wait for you, Gendry. I’ll be waiting here, don’t take too long,” she said softly, hoping that her words were light enough to be carried away by the wind, hoping against hope that he would listen to her message.

She hugged herself and fixed her gaze on the horizon. From her position, she could see the courtyard and beyond the keep’s gates that, for some reason, were open. She was so lost in her thoughts and memories, that she almost didn’t notice the rider who was fast approaching the keep.

Her heart started beating faster, she didn’t dare to believe, but it was him, she was sure. Arya jumped off from the workbench and walked quickly towards him. As he came closer, she noticed the bandages that covered one of his arms and his bruised face.  _I should have gone with him, I should have been there, I should—_

"Arya!" He called her as soon as he saw her. Gendry got off his horse with a jump and ran in her direction. He stopped a couple of feet away from her, not knowing if she would accept his affections after having broken his promise to her. "Arya, I’m sorry I’m late, I tried to come back as soon as—”

She didn’t let him finish, she simply closed the space between them and, standing on the tips of her toes, placed her arms around his neck, burrowing her face there as he held onto her with one arm. “Don’t do it again,” she muttered against his skin.

"I’ll try."

They stood there for a while, just holding each other. Words weren’t necessary at that moment.

When they finally decided to put some distance between them, Gendry was the first one to speak, “I brought a present for you.”

She frowned. “Why? I didn’t ask for anything.”

"I know, but I think you will like it." Gendry smiled at the suspicious look on her face. He went back to his horse, leading the animal to the nearest post to tie the reins there, and took a bundle that had been securely strapped to the saddle. "Come," he took her hand in his and they walked towards the forge. They sat side by side on the bench. "Here," he placed the bundle on her lap, "this belongs to you."

She unwrapped it slowly, unsure of what she was about to discover. When the last rag that concealed her present fell to the floor and she took a look at it, her heart almost stopped beating. “ _Needle_ ,” she nearly choked, all her feelings appeared to be trapped on her throat, so she let her emotions flow through her tears. She covered her face with her shaky hands and cried her heart out.

Gendry was shocked, he never thought his ‘present’ would cause her so much pain. “I’m sorry, Arya!” He exclaimed, his voice was filled with guilt. “Forgive me, I never thought this would make you so unhappy, I—" His words were cut short by her lips. He wasn’t surprised to notice that her kiss was a reflection of her character; strong, unpredictable, warm and demanding. If he had known before how the touch of her lips against his felt, he would have never stopped her advances. The gods help him, he was sure that from now on, he would be the one looking for her caresses and kisses. A loud, wet sound put an end to their kiss.

"Stupid," she murmured against his lips, with her eyes closed, "I’m not sad, I’m happy," she said, placing her hands gently on his cheeks, being careful of not hurting his face.

"Truly?"

She nodded, “Truly.” Arya opened her eyes, a tender look on her expression, and kissed him quickly one more time before letting her head rest against his shoulder.

He smiled and placed his arm around her, bringing her as close to him as it was possible.

"You know, now that I think about it, there is one thing that makes me sad."

"What?"

"That I didn’t kill the man who stole Needle from me," she sighed. "Are you sure he’s dead?"

"Yes, I’m sure. And don’t worry, he won’t be coming back from the dead any time soon."

"What a shame, I would be happy to send him to hell once more."

Gendry chuckled. “I bet he won’t dare to come back if he has to face your wrath, m’lady.”

Arya smiled. “What a craven!”

They both laughed at her words.

After a moment of comfortable silence, Arya spoke again. “Thank—”

"You don’t have to thank me."

"Would you let me finish, stupid?" She smaked him hard on one of his legs.

"Sorry."

She sighed deeply. “Thank you, Gendry,” she repeated, “thank you for recovering Needle, for giving me back a piece of my life,” she spoke softly, her voice was calm and her words were earnest, “for giving me back my parents, my home, my memories” she paused briefly, “thank you for giving me back my brother’s smile…”

He held her tightly, both remained quiet. “I wish I could give you more,” he said after a while. “I want to give you more, Arya.” He worried when he didn’t get an answer from her, but once he felt her relaxed body against his and noticed her deep, steady breaths, he knew she had fallen asleep. Gendry shitfted his position, trying to move as little as possible to not wake her up, and despite his injuries, he was able to take her in his arms. He stood up slowly, making sure that Needle couldn’t hurt her, and without giving a second thought, he carried her towards his room at the back of the forge.

Consequences be damned.


	5. Obsession

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't write this drabble for my friend, I just translated one of my old fics... and that means this one is worse than the others, oops.
> 
> Warning: Extreme cheesiness ahead.

"Enough," she said.

Apparently, he didn’t hear her.

“ _Enough,_ " she warned him one more time, raising her voice just a little.

Gendry didn’t stop. He couldn’t.

"Stop it!" She demanded him. "Your beard makes me itch!"

He looked hurt. “It didn’t bother you before.” 

"It bothers me now!" She exclaimed. "My skin is very sensitive, see? It’s all red and itchy".

"Fine, I won’t do it anymore," he promised. He sat by her side and watched her carefully, while anxiously tapping his fingers on the mattress.

Arya was completely aware of the little obsession Gendry had developed in the last few months. At the beginning she found it charming, but now it was just maddening. She couldn’t even lay down for a moment without having Gendry glued to her -to the mid section of her body- almost immediately. She knew that he would do it all day and all night if he had the chance. Arya didn’t want to admit it out loud, but she really missed the attention that Gendry used to pay to her lips, which had been partially abandoned in favor of that other area of her body. But when she looked at his face, she found the most loving and miserable expression she had ever seen, she couldn’t resist anymore. Arya breathed out softly and said, “Oh, all right, you can continue if that makes you happy.”

Gendry smiled and carried on with his favorite activity. “I promise I will shave tomorrow,” he said just before he fell asleep.

Arya should have been annoyed, but in reality, she had never been happier.

*

Gendry sat down at the edge of the bed and pulled up Arya’s nightgown, he took a bit of balsam with his fingers and began rubbing them gently over his partner’s swollen belly. Massaging and moisturizing Arya’s belly were the first part of what had become his favorite nightly ritual.

Arya raised her hand and gently caressed his cheek with her knuckles. “I’m sorry that you had to shave your beard off.”

Gendry shrugged, “It doesn’t matter, it will grow again,” he said and then he kissed her slowly on the lips. “Besides, it’s better this way. It wasn’t very smart of me to keep it long while working close to the fire.”

"That is true," she smiled.

"I’m done," he mentioned with satisfaction, "now comes my favorite part." 

Arya rolled her eyes, “Really? I didn’t know,” she shook her head. “Don’t you get tired of doing it? You know the babe can’t listen to you, right?”

Gendry gave her a serious look and narrowed his eyes. “I would do it for the rest of my days. And the babe _can_  listen to me,  _to us_ ,” he said without hesitation.

"Whatever," she dismissed his words with a shrug.

He put a pillow next to her belly and rested his head on it. A few seconds later, his left hand was once again caressing Arya’s warm skin.

All those years working in the forge had blessed Gendry with a muscular body and an incredible strength, but for some reason that Arya couldn’t explain and that always surprised her, every time he touched her belly, he did it with an extraordinary tenderness. His touch was always so gentle and soft that his hands seemed to be made out of silk.

While Gendry continued with his routine, alternating between nuzzling and covering her belly with little kisses, Arya meditated. She thought about how much their lives were going to change once the babe arrived.  _Your life has been a constant change since you were nine years old,_  she said to herself.  _This time, at least, the reason will be worth it,_  she ran her fingers through his thick hair. When Gendry felt her touch, he lifted his head and smiled at her and, as soon as she smiled back, he dropped his head on the pillow and continued with his attentions.  _I sacrificed a lot along the way, I made things that would fill my parents with shame, and I even forgot myself for a while. This time everything will be different, I’m sure. Gendry and the babe will help me to not get lost again,_ she thought, completely conviced of her words.

_My featherbed is deep and soft,_   
_And there I lay you down,_   
_I’ll dress you all in yellow silk,_   
_And on your head a crown,_   
_For you shall be my lady love,_   
_And I shall be your lord,_   
_I’ll always keep you warm and safe,_   
_And guard you with my sword._

Gendry sang softly, his lips were just a hair’s breadth away from her skin. He kept his big hands, that almost covered her entirely, at each side of her belly.  
  
 _And how she smiled, and how she laughed,_  
 _The maiden of the tree,_  
 _She spun away, and said to him:_  
 _No featherbed for me,_  
 _I’ll wear a gown of golden leaves,_  
 _And bind my hair with grass,_  
 _But you can be forest love,_  
 _And me your forest lass._

When the song was over, Gendry rested his head on the pillow once again and took a deep breath. Always protective of her, he made sure to keep one of his arms around Arya, being careful of not putting too much pressure on her midsection. 

Arya blamed the pregnancy for her sudden mood swings and the overwhelming sentimentality that had been her constant companion during the last months. Even so, all her reasons and excuses did not stop her tears from falling. “Gendry?”

"Mmm?"

"Hold me."

Gendry raised his head and was immediately worried when he saw her beautiful grey eyes full of tears. “What is it? Is it the babe? Are you in pain? Do you feel sick?”

Arya offered him a big smile. “No, stupid. I feel happy.”

Gendry smiled with relief and sat down by her side. He pulled her close to his body and enveloped her with his strong arms. Arya held him tightly and rested her head on his chest, loving how warm he was, just loving him.

The light from the last candle went out and the room was only illuminated by moon’s glow.

"Gendry?"

"Yes?"

"You are my forest love," she smiled against the warmth of his skin.

"I know, my dear forest lass," he exhaled.  _I always knew._


	6. Battle of the Last Storm AU 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gendry as Orys Baratheon. Arya as Argella Durrandon... kind of, but not really, just go with it. :P
> 
> As always, try not to pay attention to the awful grammar.

The harsh noise produced by clashing swords and armours was getting louder with each passing second, not even the heavy rains could disguise the battle’s song. The echo coming from strong, deep voices and heavy steps resounded in the distance.

"Arya?" Shireen called her friend, sounding slightly anxious.

"Go!" was her immediate answer. "Are you carrying the dagger Edric gave you?

She nodded. “I have it right here,” Shireen lifted her skirts, the sharp piece of metal was securely strapped to her calf.

"Good, go now!"

But Shireen couldn’t move, she felt as if her feet were glued to the floor. Her father and her husband were outside, fighting for their home, fighting to protect her and their people, and now, her dear friend was about to do the same. She couldn’t leave her.

"What are you waiting for? Move!" Arya grabbed her friend’s hand, dragging her towards the door hidden behind an old tapestry.

"I don’t want to go, I don’t want to leave you alone, I’ll stay here!"

"Don’t be stupid. I made a promise to Edric, go!"

"Don’t be stubborn, Arya. You don’t have to protect me, I can take care of myself, you were not the only one who learned how to fight."

"And who says I’m trying to protect  _you_?” She gently placed her hand over her friend’s belly.

They looked at each other for a brief moment before Shireen enveloped Arya in a firm hug. “Thank you,” she whispered, closing her eyes tightly to prevent her tears from falling. “Be careful.”

"Don’t worry, I’ll kill myself before I let them touch me."

"Don’t say that," she shook hear head. The idea of Arya ending her own life made her heart beat faster, and when she remembered the dagger hidden under her skirts, a shiver ran through her body. She knew a little piece of steel couldn’t protect her, but it could certainly end her life before she was captured, tortured or worse.

Sensing Shireen’s agitation, Arya put a little bit of distance between the two and looked straight into her eyes. “Not today, remember?” she told her, repeating the words their fencing master used to tell them every time the presence of death was stronger than that of life.

"Not today." Shireen gave her a reserved smile and turned to go, but suddenly, her friend’s hand was holding hers one more time. "What—”

"Do you hear that?"

She tried to pay attention. “I can’t hear anything.”

"Exactly. It’s too quiet, something happened. I’m sure Aegon’s men are inside the castle, they should be here already."

"Do you think father won?"

 _I doubt it._  “I don’t know.”

The light knock on the door startled them, but both women made their best effort to stay calm. Arya walked decidely towards the heavy oak door.

"Arya, come back, let’s go!" Shireen kept her voice low, but firm.

"Don’t worry, the enemy shows no courtesy, I’m sure the person outside the door is no foe", she said coolly.

And she was right. Waiting on the other side of the door was the family’s Maester. The man was out of breath and his face was flushed, but still, he tried to appear calm and collected.

"Maester Cressen!" exclaimed Shireen. "What happened? Where’s my husband?"

"He was captured, my lady."

Arya moved quickly to stand beside her friend and she placed one of her arms around Shireen’s shaky shoulders.

"What are they going to do with him?"

"I’m not sure yet, my lady."

"What about my father?"

The man’s pale face and his grim expression were enough answer.

Shireen couldn’t contain her tears anymore. “Did you recover his body?”

"Yes, my lady, but … But I’m not sure we—”

"Is he going to kill us?" questioned Arya, interrupting the Maester’s trembling voice.

Shireen looked at her friend, her blunt question combined with her calm demeanor frightened her, just a little.

"I’m not sure, my lady."

Arya shook her head. “What are you sure about then?” She asked him, exasperated.

"Apparently, he wants to make an alliance."

"An alliance? But he refused my father’s offer, why would he want an alliance now?"

"The Lord Commander doesn’t want to shed more blood, my lady. He wants to put a end to this, a peaceful end," the man explained.

"The Lord Commander?" Shireen repeated, confused.

"Yes, my lady, Lord Gendry Baratheon," confirmed the Maester.

Arya furrowed her brow. “The Dragon’s bastard brother,” she mentioned with a light tone of surprise.

"It’s only a rumor," Shireen said.

Arya had to roll her eyes. “He killed your father and you defend his honor?”

"I did not— I …” Shireen lowered her eyes, ashamed.

A sensation of guilt invaded Arya’s body and she quickly offered an apology. “I’m sorry, you know how stupid I am, please, forgive me.”

Shireen only nodded her head in response.

The Maester cleared his throat, trying to break the tension. “My ladies, Lord Baratheon didn’t kill his Grace, his men weren’t responsible either.”

"What?!" Both women asked at the same time.

"What exactly happened to my father?"

"My lady, you father fell from his horse and he … he broke his neck."

Shireen gasped and placed her hands over her mouth, shocked. “That can’t be true, my father was an excellent rider!”

"He was my lady, but his horse was spooked by—”

"What kind of alliance does he want?" Arya interrupted the Maester for Shireen’s sake. A dragon was an even worse threat than hundreds of swords.

The man remained silent for a moment. “Marriage,” was his short response.

Arya frowned. “Who does he expect to marry?”

The Maester looked in Shireen’s direction.

Shireen shook her head desperately. “No, I’m married already, I’m with child!” She placed her hands protectively over her stomach. “I will not marry him!” She cried out, trying to be strong, wanting to be brave, but her shaking lips and hands told a different story.

Arya held Shireen closer, “You won’t marry him, I promise,” she tried to calm her, but she knew her reassuring words would not be enough, she had to act. “Where’s Edric, Maester Cressen? Where did they take him?”

"I’m sure he was taken to the dungeons, my lady."

Arya nodded. “Where’s Lord Davos?”

"He was captured as well."

"And his son? Devan?"

"I saw him before coming here, he’s hiding with a few others in the granary."

"Very well. Find him and send him to us. No one knows the caverns better than him and he will have to sneak Shireen out of the Castle. You and I will work together to free Edric and Lord Davos."

"But—”

"No buts." Arya cut him short.

"My lady?" The Maester asked Shireen looking for her approval.

"Please, go and find Devan."

"Yes, my lady."

"Be quick!" Arya exclaimed before the man disappeared behind the door.

Shireen sat at the edge of the closest chair. “And what about you, Arya? What are you going to do?”

"I’ll catch up with you later."

"Really, Arya? Do you believe me so stupid?"

Arya paid little attention to her friend’s words. “Listen to me,” she said, her voice firm and serious, “if he’s set on this marriage idea, then he’s going to kill Edric for sure, he’s going to marry you and you know what he will do next.”

"He will kill my babe," Shireen whispered.

 _And perhaps he will kill you as well,_  she thought. “Right and that is why you have to go, you will meet soon with Edric and Lord Davos and you’ll run far away from here.”

"Your plan sounds too good to be true."

"My plan is as good as it can be."

"You don’t have to do this, Arya. Why are you always so desperate to prove your worth? Your bravery? I don’t want you to be brave, I want you alive and safe."

Arya bit her lip, her expression was a mixture of sadness and helplessness. “My father and my brothers, they—" she started to say, but Shireen interrupted her.

"Yes, your father and your brothers are fighting, but that doesn’t mean you have to do the same." Shireen spoke softly, her sweet and wise words always were a soothing touch for those in need of comfort and strength. "Didn’t you tell me the other day that women are always fighting their own battles, even in times of peace? Didn’t you say that fighting with our words and minds is just as important as fighting with our hands and swords?" Shireen stood up carefully. "You don’t have to fight for your father and your brothers—”

A knock on the door interrupted them.

"Come in!" Arya yelled. "You didn’t let me finish what I wanted to say. I’m not doing this for them, I’m fighting for my sister," she said firmly, a small smile formed on her lips, "for you."

Shireen’s eyes filled with tears and she moved fast towards Arya. They held each other tightly one more time. Neither of them considered, not even for a second, that it could be the last time.

"My ladies?" The Maester spoke, disrupting the moment.

Quick as a snake, Arya shared her plan with Devan.

"You’ll what?!" Shireen couldn’t believe what her friend was planning to do.

"I’ll buy you some time. I’ll take your place."

The last thing Shireen saw of her friend was the mischievous look in her eye that only meant one thing: trouble.

* 

Not all plans go as expected. Arya Stark confirmed it this time.

Bruised and half naked, she was standing alone among strangers.

 _Fear cuts deeper than swords_ , her fencing master used to say, but she wasn’t afraid this time, she was angry. Really angry.

Her pride was hurting worse than her bloody lip.

"Take off the rest of her clothes!" One man yelled and others followed him. "We want to see what’s underneath those breeches!"

"Do it quickly, before the Lord Commander or one of his officers arrive!" Another man exclaimed.

One man, big and ugly, started walking towards Arya with a creepy smile on his lips. She kept her chin up and her face without expression. Just as the man was about to remove her last piece of clothing, a deep voice broke the men’s vulgar shouting and all went frighteningly quiet.

"What is the meaning of this? All of you, turn around, now!" The stranger commanded, his tone was severe and demanding.

Arya didn’t move, she didn’t look at the man, she didn’t bother, her eyes were fixed on an imaginary point in the distance … But she did feel when the man placed a cloak,  _his cloak_ , around her naked torso. She also felt when the man touched her face softly.

No amount of training can teach you to stop feeling.

"Who did this?" The man asked loudly. "Who was the brave man who bruised her face?"

"I did it!" The ugly man exclaimed with pride, the same disgusting smirk on his face, "The bitch had this with her." The man placed a small, slender sword in the Lord Commander’s hand.

"Mind your tongue."

"She deserves more than a bloody lip, my lord, the bitch cut my nose!"

"She should have cut your tongue as well. Lommy, Hot Pie, take him to the dungeons."

Both men grabbed the offender by his arms. The man was strong and, as expected, put up a fight.

"Rhaenys told me that Meraxes was getting hungry," the Lord Commander said out loud. As soon as the words reached the man’s ears, he went limp. "And you are the perfect size for a light meal."

The man started screaming and fighting once again, but before he turned into a bigger problem, the Lord Commander hit him _lightly_ on the chest with his war hammer.

"That dragon is always hungry," Lommy added, "it’s worse than him," he said, nodding towards Hot Pie.

"Oh, shut up, you little lizard!" Hot Pie retorted.

Both men started bickering and Gendry knew everything was under control. He looked around, confirming that the rest of his men were still in the same position, and walked until he was standing in front of the girl. “You are safe now, no one will touch you again.”

The only response he got was silence.

"My lady?" He placed his hand gently over her shoulder.

A heavy blow resounded all over the place.

Arya Stark punched the Lord Commander in the face.

"Fuck, that hurt! Why did you do that?"

" _No one_ will touch me again," she said fearlessly, looking straight into his eyes. "And I’m not your lady." To her surprise, the man didn’t try to hit her back.

But what he did was a thousand times worse.

He smiled.

He smiled the most ridiculously beautiful smile.

"Oh, but you will be," he said.


	7. Battle of the Last Storm AU 2

_Stay calm and don’t look at him, don’t look at him, don’t look at him…_  She told herself over and over again, trying to keep her eyes away from the man’s handsome face.

The Lord Commander rubbed his cheek on the spot where her punch had landed. “If you were not meant to be my wife, I would definitely make you my second-in-command,” he told her, a silly gesture on his face. “You’re stronger than you look.”

 _And you are dumber than you look,_  she wanted to tell him, but chose not to.  _Keep your mouth shut, do not allow this idiot’s words affect you._  She returned her sight to that imaginary point from before.

He looked at her curiously, knowing well what she was doing. “What are you looking at, my lady?” He moved to stand by her side, putting his face close to hers -their cheeks almost touching- pretending to look for the thing that had caught her attention. “Oh yes, that is a wonderful view!” He exclaimed with fake emotion. “The wet rocks and bare mountains make a lovely sight for sure,” he said, looking sideways at her, “and the pleasant weather makes everything more beautiful, don’t you think?”

 _Don’t look at him, don’t look at him,_  she kept repeating in her mind.  _Damn it, Arya! I told you not to look at him!_

He smiled as he felt her sight on him. “Oh, but this is a much better view,” he pronounced as he turned to look at her.

She bit her lip and stopped her mouth from betraying her feelings.

"Can you hear me, my lady?

 _Say something, stupid._  “I can hear you perfectly, but that doesn’t mean that I’m listening to you”.

The man was captivated by her boldness and her fierce determination to stay calm and strong. He was definitely going to have fun. “Ah, I see. It doesn’t matter really, not right now at least.”

"Are you going to kill me?" She asked him without hesitation.

"Why would I kill you? We’ll be married soon."

"I won’t marry you."

"You will, my lady."

 _If I marry him and gain his trust, it would be easier for me to escape and run far away from here, from him, and I could go…_  she shook her head.  _No, I won’t marry him._  “I will not.”

"You have to, you must, if you want to protect your home and your people."

 _They are not my people, not really,_  she thought.  _They are Shireen’s people, not mine… but Shireen is my dearest friend, my sister, and I have a duty to fulfill until she returns… or until we are ready to fight back._  She remained in silence.  _Let him believe that I will follow his orders._

Once the Lord Commander understood that this time he was not going to get an answer, he spoke. “Come, my lady. You need clothes and the Maester has to treat—”

Her voice caught in her throat as the memories from prior events rushed through her mind. “What did you do with him? Where is Maester Cressen?” She asked out loud as soon as she was able to speak again. She wanted to make use of her hands to hit him as hard as possible, but she couldn’t, she was using them to keep his heavy cloak in place and hide her nakedness.

"Be calm, my lady. I can assure you that he is fine."

"Is he? The last time I saw him your men hit him because he was trying to protect me!" She exclaimed as a deep frown formed on her pale face.

"I promise you he is unharmed," he reassured her seriously, "please, calm down," he tried to reach for her, but she took a step back and looked at him with disgust. He remembered then what some of his men had done to her and was filled with a mixture of fury, regret and sadness. "Please, follow me," he said and, with a slow movement, he offered her his arm. She didn’t take it.

Arya tightened the cloak around her, making sure that her naked torso was well hidden from his view, and started walking back towards the castle doors. Just before she went inside his loud voice startled her, freezing her body momentarily into place.

"Go back to your positions and continue with your duties!" His commanding voice was back. "Don’t touch the women and don’t hurt the kids. We are not longer in the middle of the battle, I don’t want to see the blood of innocent men and women in our hands and swords! Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord!" The men answered at once.

"Good. You’re dismissed!"

 _He is not a bad man,_  she considered.  _But he’s not a good man either. A good man would not steal another man’s home._

*

The Lord Commander walked by her side, always making sure to keep a short distance between them. As they passed through the Feast Hall, Arya noticed that none of the servants was around. Their absence worried her, but it also filled her with relief.  _If they see me, they will surely call me by my name and ruin everything. Shireen and Edric need all the time I can buy them._

He stopped her, holding her gently by her elbow. “Stay here, my lady. And don’t try to escape,” he warned her with a light tone. He went to whisper some words to the few men present in the room and quickly returned by her side.

As he walked back, Arya saw her sword hanging from his belt. _I have to get Needle. I won’t escape until I have it in my hands again._  “Are you going to keep my sword?” She questioned him as soon as he was by her side again.

"Yes, for the time being."

"Keep it safe," she ordered.

"I will." He responded as they continued walking towards the large corridor were most of the servants’ rooms were located. "It’s too small for you, you know?"

"I don’t care."

"If you want, I could make you one that fits you better."

"No."

He chuckled. “Your coldness wounds me, my lady.”

Arya turned to look at him, a disgusted look on her face. “Perfect. I hope you freeze to death.”

The Lord Commander looked at her for an instant before he started laughing loudly. “What kind of lady are you?”

"The kind that commands you to shut up." Arya realized that this man annoyed her more than he frigthened her.

He snorted, “As you wish, my lady.” He randomly chose a door and opened it, he took a quick look inside the room and made a gesture of approval, “This will do.” He pushed her gently into the small room and remained by the door, looking once to his right side before he spoke again. “One of my most trusted men will stay outside, if you need anything, you just have to ask and he’ll make sure to give it to you. Someone will bring you new clothes and the healer will be here soon.”

"Wait! What hea—”

He closed the door before she could finish the question.

**

Arya stood still for a moment and took a deep breath, trying to calm her feelings, hoping to put her thoughts in order. She looked around and noticed that the room was empty except for a chair, an old wardrobe and a small bed. _I guess I’ll be stuck in here for the following days. I must be thankful that he didn’t send me to the dungeons at least._  She walked to the only window that adorned the walls and looked outside, towards the sea that was eerily calm. “It could be so much worse,” she sighed.  _The only thing that matters is that Shireen and the babe are safe._  She closed her eyes as her forehead rested against the cold glass.  _Help me, old gods,_ she prayed.  _Help me to free the men so we can fight_ _back and bless me with your wisdom to make the right choices. Protect my family and my friends and help me to go back home. I miss—_ , a knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"M’lady?"

A thin girl, who couldn’t be older than five and ten, came into the room with a wooden box and clothes on her right hand and an oil lamp on the other.

"Here, m’lady, put these on."

Arya took them without wavering and she quickly dressed herself. She was surprised to find nothing but men garments, she would have thought that the Lord Commander would prefer to have his future wife dressed as a proper lady. Once she finished and turned around, she saw that the girl was taking different bottles and little cotton squares out of the box.

"You are the healer?"

"Yes, m’lady." The girl didn’t even bother to look at her, she was busy readying her materials.

"How old are you?"

"I’m fourteen, I suppose."

"You suppose?"

"I’m not sure about my date of birth, I was too young to remember when they found me."

 _She’s an orphan,_  Arya realized. She wanted to ask her who she meant by they, but prefered to keep her doubts to herself. “Oh, I’m sorry. What’s your name?”

The girl finally turned around and offered her a smile. “Weasel. Please, m’lady, take a seat.”

Arya sat down at the edge of the bed while the girl took the chair. “That’s… That’s a nice name, but don’t you have another? A real one?”

"No," she responded as she held one of the cotton squares with a small pair of tongs. "The Lord Commander told me that I could choose a new name, but I decided to keep this one. After all, weasels are clever, quick and guile, just like I am!" She exclaimed with pride.

Arya couldn’t stop her lips from forming a smile even though it hurt her.

The young healer put a bit of ointment in the piece of cotton and made a pause. “It’s going to sting a little,” she warned her.

Arya nodded. “Go ahead.”

The girl dabbed the ointment over the cut without hesitation. “The cut isn’t too deep, you won’t need stitches, m’lady,” with gentle yet firm strokes she made sure to clean the wound thoroughly, removing all the dried blood. “The Lord Commander will be very happy to hear that.”

"Why?"

"Because he cares about you, m’lady."

Arya snorted. “He just met me. He cares about keeping me alive to gain the seat of my house.”

"He cares about everyone. Why do you think he chose to take care of an orphan girl like me?" She grabbed a new piece of cotton with the tongs and continued with her task.

 _I can think of many reasons why a grown up man would choose to take care of a young girl without parents,_  she considered. Arya wasn’t ignorant of the world, she knew that some men -and women- were capable of commiting the most terrible acts. The girl proved to be as clever as a weasel, though, because she easily read her thoughts.

"The Lord Commander is not that kind of man, m’lady. He’s good and honorable. He would never do something like that. Besides, I would never let him, I would kill him first."

Arya smiled inwardly, she and Weasel had a lot in common.

"Oh well, I guess I lied," the girl added, "the Lord Commander doesn’t really care about everyone, not really. The men who did this to you won’t get a happy ending, that’s for sure."

 _Good,_  Arya thought.  _They deserve it._

"I’m done, m’lady." The girl stood up quickly and put all her things inside the wooden box. "The swelling will be gone in four or five days, but the cut will take a bit longer to heal properly. It will probably leave a small scar, but I’m sure I’ll be able to find something to diminish it."

"I don’t care about the scar. Besides, now I’ll have a proper battle wound to brag about," she joked.

"Now I see why the Lord Commander likes you so much. I like you as well, m’lady, you’ll be good for all of us."

_All of us?_

"I’ll see you tomorrow, m’lady."

Once again, the girl proved that her name fit her perfectly as she quickly left the room before Arya could thank her and say goodbye.

***

It was getting darker outside and her tummy had been reminding her constantly, for the last couple of hours, just how hungry she was.  _Maybe I should ask for water and bread at least. No,_  she shook her head,  _you are stronger than this, one day without food won’t kill you._  She took off her shoes and tried to get comfortable on the bed. Being asleep meant not having to deal with her growling stomach and its demand for food. She rested her head over the scrawny pillow and closed her eyes, forcing her body to sleep.

She closed her eyes and started counting. She was interrupted before she could even say ten on her head.

"Milady? Are you awake?"

Arya stood up and walked slowly towards the door. _Don’t show them how desperate you are… Well, how hungry you are,_  she told herself. She opened the door a little and took a look.  _Oh, it’s one of the men from before, what was his name? Cheesecake? Lemon Pie? Hot Pie!_  She finally remembered. “Yes?”

"Come, milady, the Lord Commander requires your presence."

"What does he want?"

"Um, your company, I suppose."

"Well, I don’t want to be his companion."

The man snorted. “Weasel was right,” he murmured.

"About what?"

"Huh? Oh, nothing, nothing," he shook his hands vigorously. "Come, please, the Lord Commander is waiting."

Arya sighed and went back to take her shoes from the floor and put them on.  _I hope there’s food._

"Ready, milady?"

"I’m ready."

****

"Can I ask you something?" She said as soon as they started walking.

"Of course, milady."

"Why do they call you Hot Pie?"

"Oh well, you see, my mother was a baker and I sold her pies on the streets. I used to yell _hot pies, hot pies,_  all the time to let the clients know that I was close and the nickname eventually stuck with me. I hated it at first, but after my mom passed away, I kind of grew fond of it.”

"Do you know how to bake?"

"I do, milady. I dream to have a bakery of my own one day."

"Why are you a swordsman then?"

"Well, I was only eleven when my mother died and soon after that I found myself living on the streets. I couldn’t even keep her cookbook," his eyes were filled with sorrow, "mind you, she didn’t write very well, but she knew how to write the names of the ingredients and the quantities at least." He forced a smile, but Arya noticed the sadness on his face. "I did whatever I had to do to survive, but one day I met Gen— the Lord Commander and my life changed for the better. I still dream about the bakery, but for now, I’m happy with what I’ve got. Sometimes we just have to push our dreams and desires to the side for a while.”

 _"For a while,"_  she repeated softly.

"Here we are." He knocked on the door and opened it without waiting for a response. "Have fun, milady," he told her with a silly grin on his face.

*****

"Good evening, my lady."

She turned around slowly and was immediately thankful she moved in that way because she was definitely not ready to see what was in front of her: a table full of the most delicious looking food.

Oh yes, and the Lord Commander was dressed all in black, looking even more handsome than he did a few hours before.  _Fuck._  “Good evening, my lord.”

He walked towards her and once he was by her side he offered her his arm. This time, she took it. She didn’t trust her legs.

"Are you hungry, my lady?"

Her stomach answered for her.

He chuckled. “I see you are.”

_Stupid stomach!_

He helped her to take a seat. “Would you like a glass of wine?”

Arya eyed rapidly the tankard of beer that was in front of her.

"Or would you prefer a glass of beer?"

She always prefered the bitter beverage over the sweetness of the wine.  _Proper ladies don’t drink beer,_  she reminded herself. “I’ll have a glass of wine.”

******

By the time they finished eating, she noticed two things: none of the servants had been around and all the dishes on the table were her favorites.  _You are really stupid, Arya Stark._  ”Did you poison the food?” Apparently, her words took the Lord Commander by surprise because he started choking on his drink.

"Wh—What?” He coughed, “N—No!”

"Hm, are you sure?"

"Y—Yes, my lady, I am sure. In case you didn’t notice, we both ate the same food.”

"I guess."

He shook her head. “Are you always this suspicious and distrustful?

"Yes."

"That will have to change, my lady."

"For your benefit?"

"No, for yours."

"I doubt it."

He closed his eyes for a moment and took a quick, deep breath. “What do you want the most, my lady?”

 _I want peace. I want to go back home. I want to see my father and my brothers again. I want Shireen and Edric to be safe. And I want you far away from here, from me._  “I want peace. And you?”

"I want a family. I never had a family."

She scrunched up her face. “Really? And what about Aegon and his sisters? Aren’t they your family?”

"No. They have the blood of the dragon, I don’t. They are Targaryens, I’m a Baratheon." He took a sip of his wine. "Aegon is my half-brother and my closest friend, but deep down, I know we are not family, not really."

Arya was confused. “If you don’t see him as your family, why are you fighting his battles?”

He remained in silence for a moment. “I guess I felt like I owed him a favor. I needed to feel useful, too. And I wanted to prove myself as well.”

Arya understood his words perfectly. For many years, especially during her childhood, she felt out of place and not good enough to be a lady and a Stark of Winterfell. For a long time, she lived under the shadows of many different prejudices and stupid restrictions. But that changed once she realized that her value as an individual, as a woman, was beyond the expectations of a few and their desires over her own person. As soon as she learned to appreciate what she had to offer and as she met others who loved her for who she was, she knew that her fears and doubts would be easy to overcome.

"My lady? Lady Shireen?"

_He’s calling for Shireen._

"Lady Shireen?"

 _He’s talking to you, Arya Stark!_  “Yes?” She answered immediately.

"Are you all right, my lady?"

"Um, yes, I’m just tired, that is all."

"I see. I’ll take you to your chamber then."

 _Calling that little room chamber is a bit of an exaggeration,_  she considered. “As you wish.”

*******

Arya was pleasantly surprised when she realized that she wasn’t going to spend the night in the small, cold room from before.

"I know this one is not as spacious as your room is, my lady, but I prefer to keep you close to me. I’ll be sleeping in the room at the end of the corridor, if you need anything, just knock on my door."

She took a long, calming breath and asked him the big question. “When will we be wed?”

He smiled shyly. “As soon as possible, my lady.”

She looked at him straight in the eyes. “Will you hurt me?”

"Never."

"Will you treat me as your equal?"

"Always."

"Swear it."

"I swear it."

Arya nodded once. “I don’t love you.”

"I know."

"Perhaps I never will."

"That’s a risk I’m willing to take."

"I won’t share your bed."

He chuckled. “We will have to share the bedroom at least, my lady, to keep up appearances.”

She bit her lip. “All right.”

"All right," he sighed, "well, it’s getting late and I’m sure you are tired, I hope you will be comfortable here."

"Thank you." Arya waited for him to leave first, but he didn’t move. "Is something wrong?"

"Would you allow me to kiss your hand, my lady?"

Arya didn’t say anything, she just extended her hand, showing no signs of nervousness or annoyance. A kiss on the hand was nothing.

He took her hand and smiled, but instead of bending down to kiss it, he pulled her close to him and pressed his lips to hers. The kiss lasted no more than a few seconds, but for some reason, it didn’t feel rushed nor ephemeral. It was a deep and warm gesture that left them a little bit breathless.

When he removed his lips from hers, her body reacted involuntarily and tried to follow him. Arya wanted to kick herself forever.

"Good night, my lady." He turned around and started walking towards his room.

 _Oh no, you won’t._  “Wait!”

"Yes, m—”

She didn’t let him finish. She took him by the collar of his tunic, pulled him close to her and kissed him on the lips,  _hard._  “Sweet dreams,” she said to him with a triumphant smirk. She would never forget the silly look on his face.

_Stupid._


	8. Change for the better

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I just had a friendly reminder of why I hate fanfic so much sometimes.
> 
> Anyway, this is another translation I did for my friend. Enjoy the cheesiness and lack of plot.
> 
> Oh I almost forgot, for those who are interested, I'm writing the third part of the OrysxArgella AU.

Once she finished her weekly workout routine, Arya walked towards the nearest bench and she let herself fall. She was exhausted. Getting back into shape was difficult but not impossible, and she was trying her best to achieve her goal. She took a few calming breaths and drank a bit of water… and then she checked her phone. 

Three missed calls and four new text messages.

She sighed.  _I shouldn’t have left him alone._

She went through her phone, checking the missed calls and texts, and was pleasantly surprised when she realized that her husband had only called her once.

 _He’s improving_ , she smiled and shook her head.  _I better hurry home._

*

Before she opened the door, she knew there was something wrong.

Everything was perfectly silent.

It was too quiet and calm to be good.

She opened the door carefully, trying not to make unnecesary noises, and poked her head inside. She found nothing weird or out of place at the entrance. She closed the door slowly, dropped her keys on the table and walked towards the living room.

As soon as her sight made contact with the place, she wanted to scream. Loudly.

Everything was a disaster.

There were clothes and toys thrown everywhere, the diapers and wet-wipes were spread all over the floor, but the worst was the food stains on the couch and the carpet.

_Seven Hells!_

Arya was about to run into the laundry to get whatever was necessary to clean the stains, when a soft snoring sound caught her attention.

She walked towards the biggest couch on the living room, the one whose front side she couldn’t see, and found the two most important men of her life sleeping comfortably on it.

Arya was sure she could spend the rest of her days watching, in silence, how her favorite pair slept.

They both looked so sweet and full of peace, she couldn’t stop staring at them.

She ran upstairs to get her camera and quickly returned to the living room. She couldn’t miss the chance to capture such a wonderful image. Capturing those special moments had become a habit of hers, she enjoyed it so much, she just couldn’t stop.

Both father and son were missing their pajama tops and their black manes were disheveled and full of cowlicks. Gendry had placed his arms protectively around his son and the little one was resting, placidly, over his father’s chest while sucking contentedly on his little thumb.

The scene couldn’t be more adorable.

Arya put the camera aside and sat down on the coffee table. She gently caressed her baby’s head and kissed her husband’s forehead. “Wake up, sleepyheads,” she murmured softly.

Father and son protested against the interruption.

Gendry whined lightly and the baby pouted, closing his hands into little fists.

 _Like father, like son. As if the hair and eye color were not enough to prove that you are a Baratheon, now you even complain just like your daddy,_  she thought while she rubbed her baby’s back.  _Now I have to deal with two sleepy babies,_  she considered with a smile on her face.  _Thank the Seven I only have to breastfeed one of them… although that doesn’t mean Gendry doesn’t enjoy them._  Arya looked down and saw how big her breasts were.  _They look amazing,_  she thought with pride.

"Gendry," she murmured one more time, "wake up, remember that you promised your father we would have lunch together."

He frowned for a moment and then he half-opened his eyes, “Hello, love,” he said, still drowsy, “how did you do?”

"Much better than you," she mentioned, looking around the room.

Gendry followed her gaze with his own, “I’m sorry, I’ll clean everything.”

"It’s all right, don’t worry," she closed the distance between them and kissed him on the lips, "did you have fun?"

"Of course!" He held the baby carefully and raised himself up into a sitting position, "You know mini-Gendry is the happiest when he’s with his daddy."

Arya pinched him hard on the leg.

"Ouch!" Gendry complained, trying not to make too much noise. "Why did you do that?"

"How many times do I have to tell you not to call him mini-Gendry? He has a name, you know?"

Gendry smiled inwardly, he knew how much it bothered her when he called their son like that. He loved driving her crazy. He loved her so much. “I’m sorry, love. I promise you I won’t do it again.”

Arya looked at him with suspicion but accepted his promise. “You father called me a couple of time, he even sent me a few messages.”

"What for?" He asked while he rubbed his face. The baby began to stir in his arms.

"To remind us about today. He also sent me a list of the things that the baby could need before, while, and after our reunion.  _And_  he also asked me if we knew how to install the baby car seat, can you believe it?”

Gendry shook his head. “Amazing. It’s incredible how much a baby can affect and change a person.”

 _Change for the better,_  she thought. “Oh, by the way, he warned me that as soon as we arrive, little Robbie will be his completely.”

"Wow, my father is utterly and completely lost."

"I know," she smiled, "he’s completely in love with this little one." She sat by his side and gently touched her son's head.

By that time, the baby was already awake and very much alert.

"And who wouldn’t? Robbie is perfect, adorable and handsome like his daddy." Gendry kissed his son’s belly and made funny noises which caused the baby to burst into laughter. "Last time I took him to the supermarket he made all the ladies fall in love with him. I think he even broke a few hearts."

"Is that true, Robbie?" She asked his son. "Are you as flirty as your daddy?"

The baby started laughing again.

"I think that’s a yes," she said.

"Don’t worry, love," he told her seriously. "Robbie and I only have eyes for you."

Arya smiled. She kissed her baby’s rosy cheek and her husband’s tempting lips. “I hope so,” she sighed.

Gendry hugged her close to him. “We love you.”

"I love you too."


	9. Sweet dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another translation. More family fluff. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> Next chapter will be the third part of the Last Storm AU.

The night was ideal to spend the time cuddling and kissing instead of sleeping and dreaming. 

The last summer storms were making a powerful act of presence; the winds blew strongly, the thunders and lightnings were constant, and the heavy raindrops hit noisily the ceilings and windows.

As was his custom, Gendry was occupied nuzzling and kissing his wife’s neck. His arms kept her close to him while his hands were very busy touching her body under her nightclothes.

"Did you hear that?" Arya asked him.

He ignored her question and continued kissing her, moving his hands over her breasts and the soft skin of her belly. 

"Did you hear that?" She insisted one more time and got the same answer: silence. She rolled her eyes and gave him a smack on the arm, stopping his caresses.

"Ow! Why did you do that?"

Arya moved to lie on her back, he kept his arms around her. “I asked you if you heard.”

"Heard what?"

"It sounded as if someone had opened the door."

Gendry was about to stand up, when the door of their bedroom started to open slowly. 

"Mom? Dad?" Robbie called his parents, holding his little brother’s hand.

Arya sat up immediately, worried. “What happened?”

Little Jon ran towards the bed and jumped into it, moving fast to reach his mother’s arms. 

"Shh…" Arya held her son tightly and he settled comfortably on her lap. "It’s all right, don’t be scared, nothing bad is going to happen," she told him while she rubbed his back.

Robbie walked calmly and jumped into the bed as well, kneeling over it. “Jon was scared because of the thunders and began to cry, that’s why I brought him.”

Arya and Gendry shared a look. From the day Jon was born, Robbie had assumed -voluntarily- the role of his little brother’s most fearsome protector.

"You did well," Gendry said. "And what about you? Were you scared?"

The child bit his lip before he answered the question. “N-No!” He frowned and shook his head.

Arya tried not to smile. Robbie, as well as Jon, was physically a carbon copy of his father, but his gestures and mannerisms were all hers. “Are you sure?”

Robbie stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. “Can a boy be brave when he is afraid?”

"Your grandaddy always says that the only time a man can be brave is when he is afraid,” she assured him. 

The boy bit his lip again and nodded slowly. “I was scared, but I had to be brave for Jon.”

Gendry hugged his son and sat him on his lap. “Good,” he kissed his head, “your mother and I are very proud of you.”

Robbie smiled and held his father close to him.

"Mommy?" Jon raised his head.

"Yes?"

"Can you tell us a story?"

Arya sighed, the night was going to be long for sure, but that didn’t bother her. Her happiest moments ocurred when she shared the bed with her husband and children. “Sure, what story would you like to hear?”

*

"Did they fall asleep?" Gendry asked in a low voice.

Arya looked at her children’s sleeping faces. “Yes.”

"Good, I’ll take them to their beds." He had to move carefully since Robbie had fallen asleep over him.

"Gendry, wait," she stopped him, holding him by his hand. "Let them stay here."

He smiled and gently stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “You are going soft,” he told her jokingly.

"What do you want me to do? Just look at them," she said, "they are adorable and beautiful and they are my babies."

Gendry placed Robbie in the middle of the bed and settled down again. Jon continued sleeping in his mother’s arms. “They are  _our_  babies,” he kissed both of his kids and then he kissed his wife. “Sometimes I wish they’d stop growing and stay little forever.”

Arya took his hand, “Me too.”

**

The rain stopped before dawn. In the morning, the sun shone brightly and the birds sang loudly. 

Gendry woke up to find a little hand over his face.

Robbie had moved around throughout the night and now he was sleeping across the bed, his father’s stomach served as his pillow and his little feet rested over his mother’s hips. Jon slept between his parents, hogging the blanket around himself. Arya was resting on her side, trying and failing to cover herself up with the same blanket. 

"Next time I try to convince you to let them sleep here, please say no," she said to him.

Gendry chuckled. “Got it.”

After a few more minutes, they got out of bed.

"Mommy, I want waffles," Robbie murmured, still half-asleep.

Arya looked at her husband. “He got that from you. He hasn’t woken up yet and he’s already asking for food.”

Jon changed his position and when he moved his head, he let them see the huge saliva stain that now decorated one of their pillows.

"And  _that_ ,” he pointed at the stain with his finger, “he got it from you.”

They both laughed.

Gendry walked towards her and hugged her close to him. “So, when will we have the next one?”

"Soon."  _Sooner than you think,_  she smiled, thinking how she was going to tell him the good news.


	10. Battle of the Last Storm AU 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Too long. Too boring. Too many mistakes. I tried.

Arya dreamed about Winterfell. In her dream, she had been young, a little girl playing in the crypts with her brothers. Then she had appeared a little older, sitting by her father’s side under the heart tree in the godswood. Just before she woke up, she saw herself as she was now, the people of Winterfell were cheering for her, happy to have her back. It had been a beautiful dream, one that had felt real. _I wish I was home,_ she had mumbled, still half asleep, after her dream had ended.

She had been lying awake in bed for a while, wanting to lose herself in her happiest and most cherised memories. She tried more than once to keep her mind away from the concern and anxiety that were fighting inside her, but she failed miserably. She couldn’t stop herself from thinking, wishing, hoping. She thought of her family and Winterfell and the friends she had left behind, she wished Shireen and Edric were far away and safe, and she hoped she could lie and pretend well enough to protect herself and the people of Storm’s End.

To her great disappointment, however, most of her thoughts were occupied by him, the stupid Lord Commander and his stupid face and even stupider lips.

They had spent the last few days together,  _getting to know each other_ , as he had said when he first made her the offer of sharing with him what little time he could steal from his numerous duties. They had continued to dine together as well, doing more talking than eating as it was usual, and every night, with each reciprocal wish of good night, had ended with a kiss. Arya wasn’t sure if he had taken her kisses or if she had given them to him willingly, but what she did know was that she had enjoyed each and every one of them.

And she hated herself for it.

That wasn’t supposed to happen. Enjoying the attention and caresses of the man who had completely messed up her life and the lives of others wasn’t part of her plans. She had no time for some stupid fairytale romance and love would only made her vulnerable, weak even.

 _Love is not a weakness nor a burden. Love is the most powerful weapon we can possess, it makes us stronger,_  Shireen was fond of saying.

 _Wait a moment, Arya Stark. Love? Where did that come from?_ She shook her head vigorously and convinced herself that she was just overwhelmed by the novelty of the feelings and sensations he had provoked in her.  _Overwhelmed?_ Arya snorted at that.  _Since when?_  She had never been the kind of woman who was easily overcomed by her sentiments… well, that was a lie. When Arya had been little, she had been used to be the subject of some people’s mockery, which had been bad, but the worst was when they had made fun of her for crying about it, that had hurt the most. Every time it happened, it was Jon she had gone to in her sadness, and every time Jon had made her feel better. She missed him the most. With a smile, she remembered how the last time she had gone to her brother looking for comfort, he had told her that as long as she kept wearing her heart on her sleeve, people would continue to bother her, so she went and cut off the sleeves of all her dresses. Thankfully, her father had come up with a better idea to help her. It had been Syrio Forel, the master fencer her father had enlisted to train her in the water dance, who had taught her how to guard and control her emotions and her fears.

 _The man who fears losing has already lost. Fear cuts deeper than swords,_  he used to tell her.

She took a deep breath and quickly raised herself from the bed heading towards the washbasin. Arya Stark wouldn’t waste more time wallowing in her misery. She cleaned her face thoroughly and patted her cheeks several times with the cold water, trying to wash away the last remnants of sleep and anxiety from her expression. She sat in front of the dresser and looked at herself in the mirror, something that she didn’t do very often, hoping to find a lady, _a bride_ , staring back at her. All she found was a wolfish looking girl with a slightly battered face.

Weasel had been right though, after four days, the swealling on her face had almost disappeared, the bruise and the cut were still visible, but just barely. Arya felt a little disappointed. She had hoped the scar would be something worthy of showing off. When she and her little brother Bran had been younger, they often competed to see who would get the deepest cut that would leave the ugliest scar. The competitions usually ended in a tie.  _I miss Bran. I wonder if he’s enjoying being a knight as much as he thought he would. How innocent we were,_  she thought sadly. “I have to find a way to speak to maester Cressen,” she said.  _If he’s alive, that is._  Arya hadn’t seen the maester since the day they had been captured, and she knew that was intentional. They had kept her away from the servants and the smallfolk and, except for the time she spent in her room, she was never left alone, she couldn’t go anywhere on her own, she was always escorted by Hot Pie or Lommy or the stupid Lord Baratheon. _I have to find a way to send a raven at least, I haven’t_ _heard a single word about my family._  People said that no news was better than bad news, but Arya wasn’t so sure of that.  _My father and my brothers are brave and strong. The North will not surrender easily. Winterfell will remain and the Starks will endure._

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

"This is it. Don’t be a craven now," she whispered to herself.

*

"Oh!" The maid looked surprised as she opened the door. "Good morning, m’lady!" She said cheerfully.

Arya wished she could share the girl’s good spirits. Before Arya could ask what her name was, the girl spoke again.

"I see you’re wide awake, you must be very excited!"

"I’m dying from the exciment," she said sarcastically. "What is your name?"

"I’m sorry, m’lady," the girl replied offering a poorly practiced curtsy. "I’m Bella."

Arya eyed the girl carefully for a moment, she had never seen her before.  _She must have come with him._  Bella was tall, with a large bosom and a head full of dark, thick hair. She was very pretty and Arya considered that the girl shared, somehow, a striking resemblance to Lord Baratheon.  _They could be related,_  she thought. She removed the idea from her mind as quickly as it appeared, it was too silly.

"The Lord Commander sends this for you, m’lady," she said, spreading over the bed the dress that had been neatly folded, "he hopes you will find it to your liking."

Oddly enough, she did find it to her liking. It looked similar to the kind of dresses she used to wear back home.

She barely had a moment to brush the garment with the tip of her fingers when the maid called for her attention.

"Come, m’lady, you must bathe before the water gets cold."

**

After bathing, Bella helped her to put on the dress (something that was unnecessary, she wasn’t that useless) and then braided her hair. For that, she was grateful to have Bella’s help, she had never been able to style, to tame really, her coarse mane.

"There," the maid pronounced when she was finished. "You look lovely, m’lady," she said, smiling at her. "And you have such beautiful hair!"

She didn’t believe that. “Thank you,” Arya forced herself to smile back. She stood up quickly, not wanting to delay what was inevitable.

"Where are you goin’ m’lady?"

"Out," she simply said.

"Don’t you want to see yourself in the mirror? See how pretty you look?"

"Not really."

"Nonsense," the girl said. She took Arya by the hand and pulled her gently towards the mirror. "See? You look beautiful."

When Arya saw her reflection, she had to bit her bottom lip hard to keep her jaw away from the floor.

She did look…  _beautiful_. The girl, no, the woman in the mirror looked very different from the Arya Stark with the messy hair and dirty clothes, but that was her, no matter what. Her appearance might had changed, but her essense remained. Arya Underfoot, Arya Horseface, Arry, Lumpyhead, the names did not matter, she was Arya Stark of Winterfell, daughter of the North. A she-wolf.

 _Not for long,_  her mind reminded her. Before she could could get lost in more troubling thoughts, the maid spoke.

"The Lord Commander chose well," she said smiling.

It was a simple dress made out of soft grey wool lined with a thin stripe of white fur. The garment was light enough to allow her to move and as loose as it was necessary to let her breathe easily. The fabric was thin, made for the humid climate that was typical of the Stormlands and, at the same time, thick enough to protect her from the harsh conditions of the weather. What Arya liked the most about the dress was its modest neckline and the lack of train. The Myrish lace, embroidery and beads that typically adorned a wedding gown were missing, but that did not matter, not to Arya. What the dress lacked in flamboyance, it made up for in practicality.

"He did," was all Arya could say, allowing herself to smile a little.

Two firm knocks sounded against the wooden door and the smile disappeared from her face.

Bella opened the door, excitedly. “She’s ready, m’lord.”

When the Lord Commander placed his sight on Arya, his eyes went wide and the words escaped him. He almost dropped the small wooden chest he was carrying on his hands.

"What?" Arya said, defensively. "Do I look so terrible, my lord? Allow me to remind you that you chose this dress."  _And the bride._

The man’s lips moved, but no words came out of his mouth.

Bella cleared her throat, loudly. That seemed to bring him back to reality.

"My lady, I… you…" the Lord Commander took a deep breath, trying to calm himself, and walked a couple of steps to stand close to Arya. "You look lovely," he finally said, looking directly at her eyes. "More than lovely," he added, blushing.

 _I’m the one who is supposed to be blushing._  “Did you know it’s bad luck to see the bride before the wedding?”

He shrugged. “Not where I come from.”

Arya rolled her eyes. “Well, you won’t be marrying there, you will marry here, and it’s bad luck.”

"Hm, I would have never thought you were this superstitious, my lady."

She wasn’t. She believed superstitions were something stupid, often used to manipulate people or to excuse their failures. “I’m not, I was just trying to share with you a little piece of Westerosi culture.”

"Well, that’s stupid, what kind of man doesn’t want to see his bride before the wedding?" He shooked his head. "He could end up marrying someone else."

Arya gulped.  _Oh, if only you knew._

"Besides," he continued, "it’s important to know if you find your bride agreeable, if you like-

"If you like her body, her constitution, her teeth, her hair," Arya interrupted him. "The things you pay attention to when you are choosing cattle or a horse?"

He frowned, annoyed by what her words were implying. “No, that is not what I meant to say.”

"Do you like what you see, my lord?" Arya asked him, spinning around once.

He chukled. “Oh, I  _love_  what I see,” he said with a smirk, winking at her.

Arya pressed her lips together into a thin line. “You—”

"M’lord, the chest," Bella murmured, hoping to break the argument.

"Oh, yes!" He held the chest a little bit higher and turned his face towards the maid, "Leave us, please."

The girl looked slightly disappointed, she clearly wanted to see what was supposed to happen next. “Yes, m’lord.” She curtsied and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

"Here, my lady," he said, opening the chest slowly, looking at her curious grey eyes. "I hope you like it."

She moved forward, to see what was inside the box. “A crown,” Arya whispered. She never considered she would have the opportunity to wear a crown, not that she was hoping to wear one. Crowns were pretty to look at, but they were also heavy, useless and impractical. This one was different though.

Since Arya wasn’t moving, he took the crown out, holding it gently, and placed the chest over the bed. “Do you like it?”

She looked at it closely and lightly brushed one of her fingers against it. “Are these…” she looked at him, “ _acorns_?”

He nodded. “I’m told they are a symbol of life, fertility, and immortality. They signify prosperity and good luck.” The confused look on her face must have give him the wrong impression. “Was m’lady expecting gold and diamonds?”

Arya eyed him curiously. “ _M’lady_  wasn’t expecting anything,” she told him. “And didn’t you just mock me for being superstitious? This is worse.”

"I’m not superstitious, I just thought they would look good on you."

Arya arched one of her eyebrows. “Why? Do I look like an oak tree to you?”

He stood closer to her and gave her one of his stupid smiles. “Yes, you look like a pretty oak tree.”

Arya could fight his stupidity, but not his smiles. Those were lethal. She huffed and shook her head. “You are so stupid.”

He smiled again. “Do you like the flowers?”

The white blossoms were small and aromatic and they stood out among the acorns.

"I do, they are pretty."

"But not as pretty as you," he said, smiling at the disgusted look on her face, "these are not the ones I wanted for you, but they were all I could find."

"They are all right."

"May I?"

Arya nodded once and she closed her eyes as he placed the crown on her head. The ornament was light and she was thankful for it. _Better this than a golden crown._

"Beautiful," he said, looking at her face with awe.

She could feel a blush rising on her cheeks. The way he looked at her unnerved her just as much as his stupid smiles.

"Ready?" He offered her his arm.

 _Fear cuts deeper than swords._  She nodded and placed her arm around his.

***

She didn’t want to admit it, but his soon to be husband looked handsome. He always did, but in this day, with his trimmed beard and his dark hair neatly combed backwards, he looked particularly…  _dreamy_. Arya smiled a little, remembering how she used to made fun of Shireen every time she used that word to describe Edric.

Arya eyed his betrothed with curiosity as he led her out of the castle.  _Does he plan to marry me by the seaward side?_  she wondered.

But once they reached the narrow cobblestone path, she knew.  _He’s taking me to the godswood._  She turned her face quickly to look at his, trying to read his expression.  _Does he know?_  His eyes were focused on the distance and the look on his face betrayed nothing.  _No, he doesn’t know._  Arya wasn’t sure what gods he believed in. He was not a Targaryen in name, but he did have their Valyrian blood, and Valyrians had different gods, but if the rumors were true, then he would be praying to the Seven soon enough.

As they moved deeper into the godswood, tiny raindrops started to fall. The rain at Storm End’s was just like the snow at Winterfell: always a rule, never an exception. Old Nan used to say that rain on a wedding day was a good omen, a sign of happiness and prosperity. Arya wondered if the same applied to a marriage that was doomed from the start.

When they neared the center of the small wooded area, where the heart tree was, Arya realized that they wouldn’t be alone. Hot Pie, Lommy, Weasel and a few others she had never seen before were waiting for them. It was funny, growing up, she had never thought much about her own wedding. She knew it was something that was going to happen eventually, but she had never given much thought about the ceremony or the feast, even less about the groom, and yet, she had always envisioned her family to be there with her, _for her._  Now, these people, who were practically strangers, were going to take her family’s place.

As soon as Arya stood in front of the heart tree, a feeling of loneliness overpowered her and she had to fight hard to stop her tears from falling.  _Don’t cry, you have to be strong. This isn’t forever,_  she told herself. She closed her eyes for a moment, taking one quick, deep breath to calm herlself. _All lies come to an end._ Her body moved, following his lead, and they stood face to face. As she felt his hands close around hers, her eyes rose to meet his, he smiled at her and then his lips parted to pronounce his vows.

Arya barely paid any attention to his words, so nervous she was. She didn’t care much about his promises, she was concerned about hers. It was said that it was impossible to lie in the presence of a heart tree, the old gods always knew when someone was lying, and that comforted her as much as it unnerved her. She knew it was wrong to speak false words of commitment and love, but what worried her the most was denying her name, and her family with it, before the gods. When it was time for her to say her vows, she mumbled the most simple promises and refused to say her name. Before Lord Baratheon could say something about it, she stood on the tip of her boots and kissed him long and hard on the lips to distract him. He circled her waist with his arms and held her close to him, kissing her vigorously, with a passion that made her week in the knees.  _I’m only doing this to distract him,_  Arya justified herself as she placed her hands on the back of his neck, threading her fingers through his thick hair, causing him to moan in pleasure.

She remembered that they were not alone when the people around them started to clap and cheer loudly. She broke the kiss immediately, blushing, and tried to hide her face on his cloak.

"Don’t be shy, wife," he said, smirking at her newfound shyness.

Before Arya could throw him a witty reply, he lowered his head to kiss her again, and his lips were so warm and enticing that they made her forget her long repertorie of retorts.

_Syrio would be so disappointed._

****

After the wedding ceremony they went back to the castle. Arya was suprised and pleased to find that nobody was waiting for them in the feast hall. There would be no feast, no dance, no music, and she was happy with that. It would not have been proper since her “father’s” death was still recent.

"I know most brides wish for a big celebration, but I hope you won’t mind enjoying a more private affair," he said as he opened the door to the solar that was connected to his chamber, their chamber.

 _How convinient,_  she thought.

The table was covered with many different dishes, all served in relatively small portions. At the center, however, there was the biggest cake Arya had ever seen.

He must have her caught looking at it, because he said, “It’s big, isn’t it?”

"It’s enormous!" she exclaimed, "If we were to spend the entire week here, we would not die of hunger."

"Is that an invitation?" He asked her, waggling his bushy eyebrows.

"Ha, you wish!" She huffed and rolled her eyes, he had the most annoying look on his face.

"Of course I wish it!" He said smiling.

She shook her head and ignored him.

"I sent the servants away, I hope it doesn’t bother you."

"I have hands, I think I can manage."

He chuckled.

They took their seats and served themselves. She ate a little of everything, only skipping the food that looked a bit unappetizing.

"You should try this," he said, offering her a spoonful of the stew he had just finished, "it’s really good."

She shook her head. “I can feed myself, thank you,” she pushed his hand away, “and I don’t like it.”

"Why?"

"I don’t like the taste," she told him.

He narrowed his eyes. “Have you tried it before?”

"No."

"Then how can you say you don’t like it?"

"I just know. I hate squid."

"But this is really good, you should try it," he insisted. He loved squid.

"No, and stop being so bullheaded."

"You’re the one who’s being stubborn and childish."

Arya just shrugged and continued eating her food.

"I think I’m going to eat a bit more, it’s so good!"

"Suit yourself."

"Hot Pie made it."

"I thought he was a baker."

"He is, but he can cook anything."

"Mmm."

"He put a lot of effort into making this," he sighed.

Arya chose to ignore him.

"I believe he used his mother’s recipe."

She remained quiet, her sight focused on her plate.

"His mother’s  _special_  recipe.”

Arya dropped her spoon. “Fine, you win, I’ll try it!”

He smiled like an idiot and moved the stew closer to her.

"I hate you," she told him before taking the mouthful of stew.

"I know."

She had planned to swallow quickly, tasting as little as possible, but when the food touched the tip of her tongue, she knew it would be impossible, and when the stew passed through her throat, tasting was the least of her problems. The burning sensation she felt was awful, she had never eaten something so spicy, it was unbearable. She started to choke, tears appeared on her eyes, and then came the uncontrollable coughs.

"What is it? What’s wrong? "Is it that bad? I’m sorry!" He apologized and moved quickly to her side, patting her back lightly.

"Too. Spicy." She managed to say between coughs.

"Oh." He reached out his hand to grab a bottle of wine, but she stopped him.

"Not that," she continuted coughing, "the beer."

He nodded and grabbed the tankard, he was going to serve her a glass, but Arya had not time for that. She ripped the tankard from his hands and gulped down half of it.

The bitter taste was soothing and familiar and she drank as much as she needed to. “Were you trying to kill me?” She asked accusingly after a while. “What was that? Hot pepper stew with a sprinkle of squid?”

"I’m sorry." He really looked mortified. "The stew is typically made with Dornish yellow peppers and they are known for being really spicy, I should have warned you, I’m sorry," he apologized again. "It’s one of my favorite dishes and I just wanted you to taste it." He lowered his head, clearly ashamed.

"It’s all right," she said and continued drinking.

"I had heard that proper southron ladies didn’t drink beer."

 _I’m neither proper nor southron and I’m barely a lady_ , she wanted to tell him, but she only shrugged. “Then you haven’t heard enough about us.”

He laughed, “You’re probably right.” He stood, still smiling, and moved to cut the cake. He placed a big slice on a plate and sat again, moving his chair closer to hers. “Here, you should eat this, it will help you to wash away the burning aftertaste from your mouth,” he said, putting the plate in front of her.

The cake looked delicious and spongy. It had a citrusy smell and a thin layer of pale yellow frosting, some roses made of meringue adorned the top and in the center, there was another thin layer of frosting mixed with nuts and fruit.

"Hot Pie made it for you special."

"Just like he made the stew, right?"

He smiled sheepishly, “No, I promise you, he did make this one.”

"With his mother’s recipe?"

"Now, my lady, you’re just torturing me."

"You deserve it. That and more."

"I suppose I do. Is it good?" He asked when he noticed the weird expression on her face. Her eyes were wide open and her eyebrows almost touched her hairline. "It’s not that bad, is it?"

She shook her head. “It’s the most delicious thing I have ever tasted, not even the best lemoncakes can compare to this!”

He sighed in relief and happily watched her eat the rest of the cake

*****

Arya thought the afternoon had passed very quickly, faster than usual. Perhaps she felt that way because they had been talking and pestering each other non stop for hours, which had been really entertaining. People said time flies when you are entertained and Arya had to agree.

Or perhaps the wine and beer were responsible for that, she wasn’t sure.

Arya had decided early on that her wedding day was a good day to allow herself to drink a little more than usual and that was what she did. The prospect of sharing the night -and the bed- with Lord Baratheon was distressing and, yes, even a little exciting.  _Exiting? It must be the beer._ Maybe it had been a stupid idea, she didn’t know, but she did feel better.  _Calm as still wa-_  “What are you doing?”

"Stopping you from opening the door," he mumbled on her ear, his right arm wrapped lightly around her waist, keeping her close to him.

She could have easily detached herself from his embrace, but she chose not to. _I’m enjoying this too much._  “Why?” Before she got an answer, she felt his left hand slide down the backs of her legs. “Put me down!” The sudden movement made her a little dizzy.

He hoisted her up in his arms and sushed her softly, “I’m only following Westerosi traditions, my lady,” he said with a smirk.

She bit her cheek hard to hide her smile,”Stupid.”

He carried her through the room, stopping close to the bed.

"Can you put me down now?"

He did as she asked. “I have something for you.”

"A present?" She couldn’t stop herself, she was curious and she liked presents. Jon had spoiled her too much as a child.

"Something like that." He opened the big chest that was placed at the foot of the bed and extracted a fur folded in half. He sat over the chest and she did the same. "I made this for you," he said, pulling a dagger out of the fur.

The small weapon was practical, useful and the details on the scabbard and the handle were beautiful. It was precisely the kind of present Arya liked. “You made this?” She asked, a tone of surprise in her voice.

"I did."

"But… how?"

"We all have our secrets, m’lady," he said, winking at her one of his piercing blue eyes. "Do you like it?"

She nodded, “I do.” Then she snorted loudly, “Aren’t you afraid that I might use this on you tonight?”

"I must admit I was," he told her, tilting his head a little and smiling, "but I trust you and I know that you would not kill me in my sleep nor would you kill me by surprise. If you were to take my life, you would do it looking directly at my eyes, I think."

He was right. Her father had taught her brothers that lesson a long time ago and, even though that teaching wasn’t meant for her, she had pay close attention to his words and their meaning. And a lesson well learned is never forgotten.

"This, however," he continued, taking a thin blade out of the fur, "is something that belongs to you."

“ _Needle,_ " she whispered.

"What?"

"My sword, Needle."

"Oh."

"What kind of husband gives his wife two blades on their wedding night?" she asked in jest.

He shrugged, “The supid kind, I suppose.”

She burst into laughter. “I think it would be very rude of me if I killed you after giving me such wonderful presents.”

He moved closer to her and his arm went around her waist, “I’m glad to hear that.”

The deep tone of his voice and the way he looked at her made her feel funny things in her stomach. “I don’t have a present for you, I have nothing to give you,” she told him, looking shyly at his eyes. The excess of beer was clearly affecting her character.

"Don’t worry, m’lady," his arm tightened around her, "you are all I want," he assured her, moving his face closer to hers, nuzzling her neck and then her cheek.

"That tickles."

"Do you like it?"

She giggled, “A little.” She was giggling, she never giggled.

"And what about this?" He was about to kiss her on the lips when she pushed him away from her.

"I do have something to give you!" She stood up quickly, smiling.

“ _I know,_ " he said, looking at her with hunger. He tried to hold her close to him again, but she was fast and moved out of his reach. He pouted, he was desperate to kiss her again. "What is it?"

"A dance."

He smiled, dancing was the perfect excuse to do other entertaining things. He stood and moved forwards quickly, wobbling a little in the process and trying to grasp one of her hands.

"No, stupid," Arya said, slapping his hand away and pushing him to the bed, "not that kind of dance."

"What kind then?"

Arya stood side face, her right hand behind her back, the other one holding Needle. “The Bravo’s dance, the water dance, swift and sudden,” she told him and then she moved her head to look directly at him. “All men are made of water, do you know this?”

He shook his head.

Then, in one quick, sudden moment, she had Needle pointed at his throat. “When you pierce them, the water leaks out and they die.”

He was too aghast to speak.

She gave him one devilish smile and took a few steps back. “Do you want to see me dance?”

He nodded.

"I have to take this off first," she said, untying the knots at the back of her dress, "it’s too stuffy in here, with all these candles," she complained.

"Um, do you need help?"

She didn’t, and in one swift motion she got rid of the dress. “There, that feels better.”

His eyes went dry because he refused to blink. He just couldn’t stop looking at her, he didn’t want to miss seeing a single second of the precious being in front of him. She was beautiful and stubborn and mesmerizing, but above all, she was fierce, and he was getting hard just by looking at her. Looking at his wife,  _his half-naked wife_ , dancing around the room was the most arousing thing he had ever seen and experienced so far. He was the luckiest bastard in the world and he couldn’t take it anymore, he had to do something. “Teach me,” was the first thing that came to his mind.

But that was enough to catch her attention.

"Really?" She smiled excitedly. "Do you wish to learn?" She loved to teach others the water dance. Once, she had planned to travel around the Seven Kingdoms teaching kids and women and anyone who wanted to learn how to dance, but her father, her name, even her gender, and finally the war, had prevented her from fulfilling her dream. Dreaming was easy, but making dreams come true wasn’t as simple. Still, Arya never missed a chance to share her skills with others.

"I do."

"Well, what are you waiting? Come here!"

He moved fast to stand close to her.

"First, you need to stand side face."

"Huh? Side face?"

She rolled her eyes. “Side ways.”

He changed into the right position. “Why side ways?”

"Smaller target." Arya walked around him once, eyeing him closely, appreciating his physique. "You have the body of a warrior," she told him, which put a smirk on his face, "but I have to say that it wasn’t made for the water dance."

"What? Why?" He looked a little disappointed.

Arya shrugged apologetically. “You are too big and tall and…  _muscly._ ”

"Muscles are good," he said, slightly offended.

"Yes, they are, but…" she sucked on her bottom lip and remained quite for a moment, "perhaps… it’s your tunic what makes you look bigger, you should take it off."

"As you wish!" He didn’t need to be told twice, he got rid of his tunic in a second. "Do I look smaller now?"

 _The opposite._  She liked what she saw, but it wasn’t enough. “Um, your undershit, it’s loose…”

He took it off too. “Is this better?” He questioned, a knowing look on his face.

Arya could not speak. His naked chest was calling for her and she wanted to touch it, to feel it against her own.  _The beer made me stupid._  Arya bit her lip hard and winced, the bruise was still painful. He noticed.

"Are you all right?"

She nodded,”I just hurt my lip, that is all.”

His jaw clenched and he moved towards her, eliminating the unnecessary space between them. “I’m sorry,” he told her, touching her cheek softly with his fingertips, “for what my men did to you,” when he said that, a mixture of guilt and disgust marked his expression, “they had no right.”

"They could have done worse and not just to me."

"I know. I can assure you that they got what they deserved."

The tone of his voice was deep and sever, but when she looked at him, there was nothing in his eyes but worry and regret, and when she touched his hand with her own, his expression grew soft and his eyes were tender on her. “I wish I had made justice by my own hand,” she told him, moving her face closer to his.

"I should have let you," he wet his lips and placed her left arm around her, holding her tight against him. "Next time I will, I promise you."

His eyes asked her permission as he leaned towards her.

"I will hold you on that promise," she smiled before their lips met.

They kissed softly first, tasting, exploring, allowing their lips to get used to each other. When she dropped her hand to her side, his moved slowly from her cheek down to her neck and then down to her shoulder. His fingers brushed lightly over the soft skin, taking with them the strap of her shift, and she shuddered in anticipation.  _That wasn’t supposed to happen,_  she thought.

******

She stopped thinking by the time they fell onto the bed.

Her arms and legs were tightly locked around him, keeping him as close to her as it was possible. His weight and the warmth of his skin felt good against her and she was desperate to get rid of her stupid shift, even if she knew that was a bad idea. He tried to lift his body off of her, but she didn’t let him.

"I don’t want to crush you," he told her, between kisses.

"You won’t, my lord."

"No, not my lord," he murmured against her lips. "Gendry."

“ _Gendry,_ " she repeated softly and she could feel the way his heart was beating hard in his chest.

He broke the kiss and smiled, looking down lovingly at her face. He opened his mouth to say something, her name she supposed, but she shut him up with a kiss. She didn’t want to be called Shireen, not at that moment.

Eventually, his lips left hers to begin a new exploration. He kissed, licked and nipped softly the skin of her neck and she let herself go, closing her eyes and sighing in pleasure. She didn’t know it could feel this good. His hand stroked teasingly up and down her side, lifting her shift a little with each movement and lightly brushing the side of her breast, which sent a jolt of desire through her.

But then he stopped.

"Why did you stop?" She groaned, opening her eyes to see what was the problem. He was looking at her and his eyes were shining with lust.  _Am I the problem?_

"May I?" He asked her, playing with the knot at the front of her shift.

"Oh, go on," she said.

His big fingers released the knot easily and Arya was surprised by that. Her surprise was quickly overshadowed by pleasure when his lips touched the skin between her breasts.

*******

They didn’t consume their marriage that night. Arya wasn’t ready for that and he was happy to wait, or so he said.

"Good night," she mumbled and her eyes, heavy with sleep, closed fast.

He smiled and placed her arm around her small waist, bringing her close to him. “Good night…” he said in a soft whisper, kissing the corner of her lips, “ _Arya._ ”

 _Arya_ , she repeated in her dreams… but, she wasn’t dreaming, not yet.

And then everything dawned on her.

The grey wool of her dress, the ceremony before the old gods, the lemon flavored cake, and the flowers in her crown had not been randomly chosen, oh no, those were winter stars, a type of flowers that, unlike the blue winter roses, grew all year round in the North. Arya wanted to punch herself for being so stupid. It had been so obvious.

The sharp sound of the slap resounded around the room.

"Fuck! Why did you do that?!"

"You stupid! You knew! You didn’t come here to take the seat of Storm’s End, you came for me!"

Arya learned a big lesson that day.

Ocasionally, the trickster ends up being tricked.

********

"What did you do to convince my father?"

"I promised him that I would protect you, keep you safe."

"I don’t need protection!"

"I know that now, but I didn’t know then, though your father did try to warn me," he said, rubbing softly his sore cheek.

"What else did you promise him?"

"Winterfell," he said without hesitation. "And the Starks ruling the North until the end of time."

What he did not tell her was that Aegon had been planning to make her his third wife and, through their marriage, keep the vast North under control. When he heard about his half-brother’s plans, something inside him told him that it wasn’t right. Aegon had done things far worse, but somehow he felt this was terrible. Perhaps it had been the way Aegon talked about his future third wife, he wasn’t sure, but whatever the reason was, he knew then that he had to stop him. He had seen how miserable Visenya looked every day after Aegon spent the night with her (although she always hid her disgust well) and how Rhaenys kept many bed-mates to satisfy her needs. Aegon enjoyed his sisters’ bodies and their company, but not their persons. Aegon wasn’t a monster, he knew, but he loved his crown and himself far too much for Gendry’s liking. He had decided then that this northern girl was not going to suffer the same fate as his half-sisters.

"Your father might have bent the knee to Aegon, but I bent my knee to you," he told her. "What do you say?"

Arya thought about her brothers and the people of Winterfell. She thought about her parents and how they had been strangers to each other when they got married. She remembered all the happiness her parents had created together for her and her brothers. She remembered the godswood and the snow, the crypts and the Stark kings who would rest there forever. She knew what she had to say.

"I say…" she stared at him with cold, dark grey eyes and a devilish smile formed on her lips, "…that you better bend both of your knees to me."

"As m’lady commands!"

**********

Shireen soon returned to rule the Stormlands and gave birth with Edric by her side.

Arya and Gendry went back to the North where they were received with loud and prolonged cheers by the people of Winterfell.

House Baratheon would never come to exist, but that did not matter in the end.

Gendry got the family he wanted and Arya kept hers.

Their children would know nothing else but the cold of the North and that was comforting to them, because winter is always coming.


	11. Chest pains 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loosely based on the "little kids getting way too caught up in make believe AU" prompt on Tumblr.
> 
> This started as an Arya and Gendry story and it suddenly transformed into a Ned and Arya feels fest. Sorry not sorry.
> 
> Don't pay attention to the grammar. :D
> 
> Hope you like it, bookskitten! ;)

Ned Stark had been happily engaged in a football conversation with Robert Baratheon, his best friend and business partner, until he got distracted by the most curious image.

His seven year old daughter was walking towards him . . . holding the hand of his best friend's son.

His daughter, who refused to hold hands with anyone who wasn't him or Jon, was holding hands with a boy. His baby daughter, who claimed that all boys with the exception of her brothers were icky and smelly, was holding hands with a boy. His girl, who only touched boys in order to punch or kick them, was holding hands with a boy. His Arya was touching a boy.

Ned Stark wasn't ready for that. He would never be ready for that.

"Arya? What is going on?" He asked her, trying to remain cool and calm. "And what are you wearing?"

When his friend Robert looked behind him to see what the problem was, he burst out laughing. "Hah, this is happening sooner than expected!"

Ned got the chest pains.

His daughter bit her lip. "Father, I don't want to scare you but . . . Gendry and I just got married."

"You what?!" Ned exclaimed while his best friend's laugh could be heard all around the North.

His Arya ran to his side, never letting go of the boy's hand, pulling him behind her. The chest pains only got worse. "It's okay, daddy," she said, placing her free hand over his shoulder in a reassuring gesture, "we got married in the godswood, before the old gods."

That only made things worse. He felt like he was going to faint any time now.

"Don't worry, Mr. Stark, I know I'm young, but I'll take care of Arya," the boy spoke with all the confidence a ten year old child could have.

"Of course you will boy," Robert Baratheon said to his son, his voice was firm and his expression serious. Robert was able to change into the scary father mode with very little effort.

Gendry nodded, looking at his father with a fearful expression.

"And why didn't you invite us to the wedding?" His friend asked them, taking a sip of his beer.

"I'm sorry, father" Gendry said, "we didn't have much time and Arya wanted something private."

Robert laughed again, spitting out his drink, "Oh Ned, I think your daughter will make my son a very bossy wife."

 _Good,_ he thought for a second before shaking his head and coming back to his senses. "Don't encourage them, Robert." Ned warned him.

"I'm sorry," Robert said, chuckling.

"Arya, what are you wearing?" His wife appeared bringing with her a big bowl of chips.

"Oh Cat, thank the gods you are here."

"What happened?"

"Your daughter and my son just got married without inviting us, what do you think?" Robert asked her.

"Oh . . ." Cat bit her cheek, trying not to laugh, "Is that why you have a towel wrapped around you, Arya?"

The girl nodded. "Gendry didn't have a cloak, so we had to use his towel."

"It's dry," Gendry added.

"I see," his wife said, her feelings under control, as always. "And why did you two decided to get married? You are still so young."

His daughter bit her lip again and lowered her gaze to the floor, Gendry looked at her, as if he was waiting for her to talk, but when that didn't happen, he decided to speak.

"Well, Arya is my friend and I like her and I don't want anything bad to happen to her," Gendry said, in total seriousness, "I have to protect her."

"Protect her from what?" Ned asked.

He noticed how his little girl's eyes got glassy with tears. She heaved a deep sigh before whispering a few words. "From the ugly old man."

"What ugly old man?!" Cat asked loudly, truly concerned this time.

A few tears escaped from his daughter's eyes, but before they could overtake her, she frowned and balled her hands into tight little fists. "Jeyne said . . ." His daughter went quiet again.

His wife looked at him and shook her head. Jeyne was Sansa's best friend and their favorite past time was making Arya's life miserable.

"Jeyne said what, Arya?" Cat questioned their daughter. His wife had a soft expression on her face, but he knew her well, he knew she was fuming on the inside.

Gendry did the talking. "Jeyne told Arya that she looks like a horse and that no one would ever want to marry her. Arya said to Jeyne that she doesn't want to get married, that she wants to go on adventures, but then Sansa said that she has to marry anyway, and that you will find an ugly old husband for her some day." Arya cheeks were red, colored by the anger and the shame. "I heard everything, so I told them that I would gladly marry Arya one day. I don't want her to marry an old man, it's not fair." Gendry's cheeks matched Arya's in their color. "Besides, I think Arya's very pretty, Jeyne and Sansa are just big fat liars, aren't they?"

The three adults looked at each other.

"Yes, they are," Robert said, "Arya is as pretty as a winter rose."

"Prettier," Ned corrected him, smiling at his daughter who ran into his arms to hug him tightly.

"Is Arya going to live with us now, father?" Gendry asked innocently.

"Of course not!" Arya exclaimed, letting go of his embrace, "you are going to live in Winterfell, with me."

The chest pains were back.

 

_**Some years and a lot of pains later. . .** _

 

Ned smiled to himself as an old memory invaded his thoughts.

"Dad? Daddy?" His daughter's voice brought him back to the present. "What's with the silly smile?" she asked.

He shrugged, "it's nothing."

"Liar," she told him, with a sweet smile that only helped to make her look more beautiful. "Are you ready?"

"To let you go? Never."

She held his hand tighter and her eyes became watery as she looked up at him. "You'll always be the number one in my heart, I promise," she reassured him.

"I know, sweet one," he sealed her promise by kissing her forehead.

"Just don't tell Gendry I said that, okay?" She giggled.

"Don't worry," he chuckled, "I won't."

The tune of that old song about the maiden and the tree started and he knew it was time. As they walked together along the leaf covered path, Ned thought with a bit of sadness that this was probably the last time he would ever get to hold his little girl's hand, but as he handed her over to Gendry, who looked at her with the most ridiculous love struck face he had ever seen, he knew he was placing his daughter's heart and happiness in the safest hands.

And the chest pains were gone forever.


	12. Poppy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the Tumblr prompt: "I don’t like you and you don’t like me but our best friends just died in a car crash and left their one-year-old daughter in our custody so now we’ve got to act civil and end up falling for each other" AU.
> 
> I changed the daughter's age.
> 
> This is way too long (and probably pointless).
> 
> Excuse the mistakes.

 

Gendry still couldn't believe it.

Last week, he was making plans to hang out with his best friend during the weekend.

Five days ago, he got the call that let him know his friend and wife had passed away in a terrible accident.

And today, at his thirty years of age and with no experience in the care of children, he was about to become the adoptive father of his best friend's daughter.

Gendry was shocked and moved to tears when he found out his best friend had trusted him enough to name him as his daughter's guardian in case something happened to him and his wife, and it did, sadly.

At least he was going to share the responsibility with someone.

To his chagrin, however, that someone was Arya Stark.

_Seven Hells._

 

*

 

Arya was sitting outside of the lawyer's office, biting her lip and moving her right leg up and down unceasingly.

She was anxious, she was sad, and she was angry.

A selfish asshole had taken her best friend's life in a second, and her friend's husband had followed her to the heavens just a few hours later. It wasn't fair. They were so young and full of plans, they were lovely people with big dreams and even bigger hearts, what pained Arya the most was that their little daughter was going to grow up without them.

When the lawyer informed Arya that she was now in charge of the girl, she almost fainted. She didn't know anything about kids apart that they needed to be fed and cleaned regularly. When the laywer tried to calm her down by telling her that she was going to share the custody with Gendry Waters, she had to bit her lip hard to repress the cackle that almost escaped from her lips.

Out of all the insufferable morons in the world, she was now going to be forced to spend her time with the most bullheaded one of all.

"Where in the Seven Hells is this idiot?" She murmured to herself.

 

*

 

"I need both of your signatures here, please," the lawyer politely asked them.

They did as they were told and that was it, they were legally and oficially the guardians of Poppy.

"Under these circumstances, I can't congratulate you for becoming parents, but I do wish you good luck and I hope you will do your best effort to make sure the little girl leads a happy life.

Gendry looked at Arya for a second before nodding. "We will."

Someone knocked on the door, inviting themselves in. "Hello," a middle aged woman greeted them, "I'm the social worker, Mrs. Smallwood, are you ready to take your little girl home?"

Arya looked back at Gendry, "We are," she said.

They followed the social worker towards the back of the building where there was a beautiful playground.

"There she is," the woman said, pointing in direction of the sandbox where the little girl was playing on her own. "Poppy is a very sweet girl, but losing her parents has obviously affected her. She's still very young to understand exactly what happened, but with your love and help, I'm sure she will eventually move on and go back to the way she was before."

Arya and Gendry were speechless.

"Scared?" Mrs. Smallwood asked them.

"Terrified," they replied at the same time, frowning at each other for no other reason but being synchronized.

The woman smiled. "It's normal, you have barely had the time to grieve your friends and now you have a big responsibility in your hands, but trust me, you will be fine. And if you ever fear you are doing something wrong, you just have to call me, I'll gladly help you," she assure them, "what Poppy needs the most at the moment is love and attention, but above all, she needs stability. If you can provide her with that, the rest will happen naturally."

They both thanked the woman and walked towards the little girl.

"Poppy?" Arya called her name when they were a few steps behind her.

The girl turned around and looked at them with curiosity. "Auntie Arya? Uncle Gendry?"

They smiled and sat at both sides of the girl.

"Are you going to take me home to see mommy and daddy?"

"No," Arya told her, while Gendry said the opposite.

They scowled at each other and went quiet for a second before trying again.

"Yes," Arya said this time.

"No," Gendry said simultaneously.

Arya pinched Gendry discreetly on his back.

"No, sweety, I'm sorry," Arya told her, keeping her voice as soft as possible, "your mommy and daddy went on a long journey, so you'll be staying with us for the time being."

"Oh. . ." Poppy lowered her gaze, clearly disappointed.

"Hey Poppy, are you hungry? do you want to eat something yummy?" Gendry asked her.

The little girl nodded.

"Want some chocolate cake? I know a man who makes the best cakes in Westeros!"

The girl smiled at the mere mention of chocolate.

 

*

 

While Gendry's baker friend made sure to stuff the girl with all the chocolate available in his bakery, Arya and Gendry were caught in a heated discussion.

"No way is she going to stay with you," Arya told him, "half of your neighbors are creepy as fuck while the other half loves to walk naked around the building, the last time I had the _pleasure_ of visiting your apartment, I saw two pairs of boobs and an ugly dick, do you think Poppy would be safe there? I don't think so," she crossed her arms over her chest.

"That's bullshit," he said, "my neighbors might be a bit weird, but they are not perverts nor exhibitionists, who knows, perharps you were perving on them, are you into vouyerism?"

"Sure I am, stupid," she responded, rolling her eyes.

"She should stay with me, my apartment is closer to her school. Besides, you can't even cook, how are you going to feed her?"

"I think I can manage."

"Yeah right, what are gonna do? Feed her with food made out of Play Doh? Or will you hire a cook to do the job for you?"

"That's actually are great idea, it's good to know that that thick head of yours actually works once in a while"

It was Gendry's time to roll his eyes. "You are a pain in the ass."

"Thank you, I'll take that as a compliment."

In the end, they agreed that Poppy was going to spend one week at Arya's apartment and then she would spend the following week at Gendry's place and so on. It was a good plan.

A good plan that didn't last long.

 

*

 

The little girl became very quiet as they were putting her to bed.

"Is there something wrong, Poppy?" Gendry asked her.

The girl nodded. "I forgot Lommy, I can't sleep without him."

"Lommy?" Arya wondered who in the Seven Hells was Lommy.

"My teddy bear," the girl clarified.

"Oh well, don't worry, we can look for him tomorrow," Arya tried to console her.

"In the meantime," Gendry said, "you can have this."

Arya stopped Gendry before he could handle the little stuffed animal to Poppy.

"What the fuck do you think you are doing?" Arya asked him through her teeth, "this is mine."

"Oh come on, you certainly don't need this to sleep," Gendry said in a mocking tone, holding the toy by its very fragile looking tail.

Arya snatched the stuffed animal out of his hand and held it close to her chest. "My father gave me Mrs. Weasel before . . ."

The words were left unsaid, but Gendry knew what she meant to say. Before he could apologize, Poppy spoke again.

"My daddy calls me Weasel sometimes, he says I'm sneaky like a weasel, but I don't know what that means."

Gendry and Arya shared a sad look.

"Here little Weasel," Arya called her playfully, sitting by her side, "you can sleep with Mrs. Weasel tonight, I'm sure she would enjoy your company."

Poppy smiled and she happily took the stuffed animal from Arya's hands.

"Well," Gendry said, stretching his arms and sighing, "I believe it's time for me to go."

"No!" Poppy exclaimed, clearly distressed, "you have to stay with us!" She pleaded, sitting up and holding Gendry with her little hand, which was enough to break his heart and convince him of staying.

 

*

 

Arya changed into her pajamas while Gendry had to sleep in his undershirt and keep his pants on.

They settled into bed, resting at each side of the little girl. Poppy moved between them for a couple of minutes, trying to make herself comfortable. Once she found the perfect spot to rest, she asked them, "Are you going to be my mommy and daddy now?" .

Gendry lifted his head up slowly, searching for Arya's eyes, when he found them she was already looking at him. The look on his face proved to be enough to make her understand what he was silently asking her.

Apparently, the dislike they felt towards each other had not effect on the efficiency of their silent communication.

"Yes," Gendry said, moving to rest on his side, mirrorring Arya's position. "What do you think?"

"I think . . ." Poppy sat up suddenly, looking at them with a sweet look on her face, "I think we should give each other good night kisses!" she exclaimed, giggling.

Poppy moved to kiss them on their cheeks and sat on her legs, waiting. She frowned when it was obvious that her new mommy and daddy weren't into kissing each other. "You don't like good night kisses?"

"Uh, not really," Arya said.

"Oh . . ." The girl said softly, dropping her gaze, looking disappointed, "mommy and daddy loved the good night kisses."

Gendry moved closer to Arya, looking a bit disgusted, and murmured on her ear. "For Poppy," he said, before pecking Arya on the cheek.

The little girl clapped, clearly happy. "It's your turn, mommy!"

Arya felt like someone had just kicked her in the chest. _For Poppy,_ she thought, before placing a quick, barely there kiss on Gendry's cheek.

Poppy's laugh was cut short by a yawn.

"C'mon, Poppy, it's time to sleep," Arya said, refusing to look at Gendry, she wasn't in the mood to deal with his stupid face.

The little girl nodded, getting under the covers, making herself comfortable once again. She took Arya's arm and placed it around her. Arya huged her close to her chest. It felt right.

Gendry stretched his arm to turn off the lamp and settled on his side, the bed wasn't big enough for three people even if one of them was small and the other extra small.

"Daddy?" the little girl whispered.

"Yes, Poppy?"

"You are too far from us," the little girl grabbed him by his undershirt, clearly trying to pull him closer to her, "if you fall off the bed, the monsters are going to eat you."

Gendry smiled and moved a little closer.

"Hug us, daddy," she said.

Reluctanly and very, very carefully, Gendry placed his arm over the two of them. He did not want to wake Arya up, who had fallen sleep already, it was too late and he was too tired to face the wrath of the she-wolf.

He stayed awake for some time, trying to calm down his heart that, for some reason, was beating faster than ever.

If only he had paid a bit of attention, he would have noticed that Arya's heart was beating just as fast.

 

*

 

Arya was having the most wonderful dream.

She was comfortably resting on the fluffiest cloud, flying over the godswood back home, the cool wind was gently blowing on her face.

It was a beautiful dream.

But then a freaking mosquito decided to bite her in the forehead. Arya tried to scratch away the itch, but the stupid insect would not leave her alone.

Arya turned onto her stomach, trying to hide her face on the cloud, hoping the mosquito would fly away and leave her alone. And it worked, for a moment.

Now the mosquito was biting her ear. Arya had had enough.

When she opened her eyes the only thing she saw was skin.

Gendry's skin.

 _Oh, that wasn't a mosquito, it was Gendry's beard,_ she thought, still half asleep.

It took her brain less than one second to understand what was happening.

_Fuuuuck!_

At some point during the night, Arya had managed to move half of her body on top of Gendry's. She had been nuzzling his neck when she woke up and, worst of all, she could not move away from him without waking him up because for some stupid reason, he had his arms tightly wrapped around her and, for an even stupider reason, she had one of her arms wrapped around him as well .

 _Seven fucking Hells,_ she cursed.

Arya tried to move her leg that was resting over his pelvis . . . terrible idea.

Gendry moaned softly.

And Arya felt _it_.

 _Oh no, no no no no,_ Arya thought, _please gods, tell me that this bullheaded idiot did not get a boner because of me,_ Arya pleaded. _If Poppy . . ._ "Where's Poppy?! Oh gods!" Arya yelled, pushing Gendry away from her.

He woke up, startled by the pushing and the yelling, "What- what's going on?" He asked, looking a bit disoriented.

"Poppy is gone!" Arya yelled from the bathroom.

"What?!" Gendry sat up quickly, pushing the covers away from him.

Arya came back to the room, "Oh gods, could you please put your thing down?!" She demanded, covering her eyes with one hand while the other pointed at his crotch.

Gendry looked down, finally noticing his boner. "Fuck!" He said, adjusting himself. He had unbottoned his pants at some point during the night.

Arya ran out of the room, with Gendry following a few steps behind, they had just reached the living room when they saw Poppy sitting on the floor, in front of the of the TV, she was holding a cupcake and had chocolate frosting all over her cheeks.

"Good morning!" The girl greeted them.

Arya breathed a sigh of relief and dropped herself in the sofa.

"Are you okay, mommy?"

"Yeah, I just got a bit scared when I woke up and didn't see you."

"I'm sorry, mommy, I had to use the potty and when I went back to the room, you were hugging daddy and smiling." Gendry snorted, he had an infuriatingly smug expression on his face that Arya wanted to erase with her fists. "You looked so happy, I didn't want to wake you."

"Did mommy really look happy, Poppy?"

Oh, she was going to kill him.

"Yeah," she said with a toothy grin before she took a bite of her cupcake. "Mmm!" the girl moaned with pleasure.

"Is it yummy?" Gendry asked her.

Poppy nodded. "Daddy, were you eating a cupcake in your dreams, too?" she asked him once she finished chewing.

Gendry smiled, "What?"

"You were doing some _yummy_ noises while you were sleeping," the girl tried to explain, "were you dreaming with cupcakes?"

He went beet red.

"Or were you dreaming about mommy?" Poppy asked innocently.

Arya's laughter could be heard ten blocks away.

 

*

 

Spending the week at Arya's place meant many different things. And some of those things were very annoying.

He had to sleep in her very expensive and very uncomfortable couch, he had to wake up earlier to make sure he arrived at his job on time, he had to tolerate her snobby and nosy neighbors, but worse of all, he had to deal with the very long parade of her guy friends and suitors.

Sure, there were some perks, like the free cable and wifi connection, the never ending supply of fast food courtesy of Arya, the central AC that actually worked (unlike the one at his apartment), and the valet parking that he had learned to appreciate.

But the guy friends, the _unsuitable suitors_ as she called them, were a huge pain in the ass.

 _I guess the blond douchebag isn't so unsuitable,_ he thought. _She should be here helping me to raise the child, she's a mother not a nanny, she shouldn't be out on a Saturday night,_ he reasoned.

 _Mothers hire nannies so they can go out on a Saturday night,_ his traitor brain reminded him.

_Seven fucking Hells, I'm the nanny!_

"Daddy, where is mommy?"

Poppy's voice brought him back to reality.

Gendry placed a glass of milk in front of Poppy and sat by her side on the small kitchen table. "I told you, she went to a bussines dinner." _A business dinner for two,_ he thought bitterly. _Why do you even care?_ He asked himself.

"Oh . . ."

His little girl bit her lip, a gesture she had rapidly adopted from Arya.

"Daddy?"

"Yes?"

"Do you think mommy is having fun?"

 _Who could have fun with that insipid little asshole for company?_ "I don't know, maybe."

Poppy went quiet for a moment, she got a pensive look on her face.

"I know a way to make mommy come back quickly from her _busyness_ dinner."

He chuckled, "Really? how?"

Poppy slowly leaned forward and gestured for him to move closer so she could whisper on his ear.

Gendry listened carefully to her very Littlefingeresque plan. "Poppy, who taught you that?" he asked her, half amused half worried.

"Mommy," she said, shrugging.

"And why did she teach you that for?"

"I think she felt very lonely when you went on your trip with auntie Willow and she made me do that so you could come back sooner."

His jaw almost dropped to the floor. Arya, the little shit, had been playing tricks on him.

 _Two can play this game,_ he thought. "Poppy, is your tummy hurting right now?"

His girl placed her hand over her belly. "I think it's starting to hurt," she winked at him.

Gendry winked back.

He hoped Arya had enjoyed her twenty minute date with that blond idiot.

 

*

 

When Arya called to let him know that Poppy had been taken to the hospital, he thought for a second that it was another one of her tricks, but then he heard the desperation in her voice, the fear in her words, and he knew she wasn't playing.

He drove like a mad man across the city not giving a single fuck about transit rules. He had to be with them.

_His girls._

Gendry didn't know when or how, but he now thought of Arya as his. She was his as much as Poppy was.

Not that he would ever tell that to Arya.

He parked his car at the first empty spot he could find and ran towards the hospital. He had just walked through the entrance of the pediatrics unit when he saw her, "Arya!"

Her grey eyes were shiny with tears and her nose and lips were red and Gendry wanted to kick himself for finding so much beauty in a moment like this.

She ran straight into his arms, sobbing, and hid her face against his chest.

"It's okay, it's okay," he said lamely, patting her back and feeling like a useless idiot.

She murmured something, but her sobs and the closeness of her mouth to his chest made it difficult for him to understand. "What did you say?"

Arya looked up at him, tears falling from her pretty eyes. "What if we lose her, Gendry? We can't lose her," she sobbed, "I- I can't, not again," she said, shaking her head.

Gendry understood. Arya had lost too much too soon, she could not bear to deal with more loses. He didn't know the details, but he knew enough. First, it had been her father, then her mother and eldest brother, and more recently her best friend. While Gendry had lost his mother too, he had been too young at the time, much like Poppy, to remember, to feel the pain, but that did not mean he hadn't felt her absence deeply.

"We are not going to lose her, Arya," he assured her, cradling her face which looked even smaller between his large hands, "Poppy is a tough girl, she's going to be fine."

"But what if-"

He shook his head, not letting her finish. "She's gonna be fine," he repeated.

"How can you know?"

"I just do."

"You promise?" She asked him, looking directly into his eyes.

"I promise," he told her, not knowing if he had said the right thing.

She closed her eyes for a moment and one last tear rolled down her cheek, when she opened them again she continued looking into his eyes. She opened her mouth to say something, but then she bit her lower lip, stopping herself, and looked down. After a moment spent in silence, she lifted her gaze and looked at him one more time, saying his name in a whisper.

"Gendry . . . I . . ."

Arya went quiet again and slowly but suredly, she began to move her face closer to his. Her sad grey eyes were focused on his, trying to tell him something, asking for something, and while he knew what that something was, he just couldn't bring himself to do it, not now, when she was overwhelmed and her feelings were blinded by the situation.

If she rejected him once her emotions and brain were back to normal, he was going to lose it, so he did the right thing, _the smart thing_ , and took a step back, letting go of her face. "Don't worry, she's going to be fine," he reassured her with a smile that didn't reach his eyes.

For half a second he thought that Arya was going to start crying again, but then the look on her face changed and he knew he had fucked up everything anyway.

She nodded once and walked away from him, sitting in one of the many empty chairs and keeping a polite distance from him.

Arya was right, he was a bullheaded idiot.

 

*

 

A nurse came out to tell them that Poppy was fine and that the surgery had gone well. They both sighed and smiled in relief. The woman told them they would be able to see her in a little while and left after they had given her their thanks.

They entered the room quietly, Arya sat close to the bed, holding the little girl's hand, while Gendry remained standing at the foot of the bed. Poppy woke up a few minutes later, a bit groggy, but she smiled as soon as she saw them.

"Mommy! Daddy!" The little girl exclaimed weakly.

"Hello sweetie, how do feel?" Arya asked her, rubbing her little hand with her thumb.

"I feel funny," she said.

"That is normal," Gendry told her, "does it hurt a lot?"

She shook her head, "Not really, it hurt worse before."

"You are so brave," he said, moving closer to plant a big kiss on her forehead.

Poppy giggled. "Can we go home now?"

Arya shook her head, "No, sweetie, you have to spend the night here."

"Alone?"

"Of course not! I'm going to stay with you."

"Daddy?"

"I'm staying, too," he assured her with a smile.

"It's going to be like a sleepover!" Poppy exclaimed, there was a bit more strength in her voice. "Oh, I wish Mrs. Weasel was here," she added.

"Don't worry," Gendry said, "I have to go home to fix some things and I'll bring her with me when I return, okay?"

The girl nodded happily.

Gendry kissed Poppy goodbye and stopped at the door for a moment before leaving, "I'll be back as soon as possible."

Poppy said goodbye, but Arya didn't even look at him.

 

*

 

When he returned, both Poppy and Arya were sleeping. He took Mrs. Weasel out of the small backpack and placed it carefully under Poppy's arm. He smiled and kissed her little girl's forehead.

He turned around and looked at Arya, who had fallen asleep with her arms crossed, facing the wall, her body almost glued to the end of the large sofabed.

She was clearly sending him a message and the message was _stay far away from me._

He stood there for a moment, watching her, admiring her long pretty face that she seemed to dislike from time to time, and noticed the goosebumps on her skin. He walked to the closet to put Poppy's backpack and the small bag that contained his and Arya's stuff inside and took out a blanket. He placed the blanket over Arya, tucking it gently around her, and then sat by her side, leaving some space between them.

He let his head rest against the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. He hoped he could fall asleep quickly since he really wasn't in the mood to think, not with Arya so close to him. However, he didn't have a chance to think or sleep because Arya started to move and mumble in her sleep.

He shifted a bit closer to her, listening carefully, but he didn't understand a word she was saying. She made some noises, like she was sobbing, then she started mumbling again and he was able to hear some words. She was dreaming about her father, she was begging him to stay. Gendry couldn't take it anymore and moved closer to her, wrapping one of his arms carefully around her. He rubbed her arm softly, whispering soothing words into her hear until Arya finally calmed down. She heaved a sigh and got closer to him, looking comfortable and resting her cheek against his shoulder.

Gendry smiled and his traitor hand moved up to caress her face. She was so beautiful. He had spent the last couple of months wondering why it had taken him so long to notice how beautiful she was, inside and out. He couldn't even remember what was the cause of the now forgotten dislike he felt towards her.

He was an idiot. He had wasted so much time.

But that was going to change.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, stroking her cheekbone with the tip of her finger, not knowing exactly why he felt sorry for.

Perhaps he felt sorry because she had lost her parents and brother while she was still young, or perhaps he felt sorry for being stupid enough to not notice what he had in front of his eyes for so long, or maybe he felt sorry for wasting the chance of kissing her before. Perhaps he felt sorry for everything.

He couldn't bring her family back just like he couldn't turn back time, but he could kiss her.

Should he?

"Sorry, she-wolf," he whispered again before he leaned his face closer to hers. He kissed her lips that were slightly parted and, as soon as he felt and tasted the sweet warmth of her mouth, he knew he was in trouble.

No, not in trouble, just in love.

To be in love with Arya Stark was to be in trouble, he had to admit, but he was okay with it.

Gendry was lost in his thoughts when he heard someone giggle. Poppy.

_Shit!_

He moved his head slowly, a bit scared to look at his daughter and when he did, he found her smiling and wiggling her eyebrows up and down with an _I saw what you did look_ on her face.

Gendry smiled back and placed his index finger over his lips, silently asking her to keep the secret between them. Poppy copied his gesture and winked at him, smiling one last time before she hugged Mrs. Weasel close to her chest and fell asleep.

 

*

 

It was Poppy's first Name Day since her parents had passed away and Arya and Gendry had decided (after consulting with Mrs. Smallwood) to celebrate the occasion with a small but fun and colorful party.

Everything had come back to normal a few weeks after Poppy's emergency surgery. Arya returned to her usual sarcastic self, treating Gendry with a deliberate coldness that fooled no one but herself, while he tried -and failed- to forget the incident at the hospital. It was as if nothing had happened between them, as if nothing had changed.

But it had. Only they were both too scared and too stupid to talk about it. So, for Poppy's sake, they had been civil towards each other as much their tempers allowed it, especially now that they had a common goal: making Poppy as happy as possible.

They had been planning together for weeks, checking all the small details and making sure all the invitations had been delivered to Poppy's friends from school and the nearby park. They had taken into account Poppy's likes and preferences for everything and the rest had been decided by, let's say, mutual agreement.

But with Gendry's bullheadedness and Arya's willfulness, the organization for Poppy's party proved to be more difficult than a party for a six year old should be.

"Gendry, what in the Seven Hells are these?"

He looked down, he was standing on a chair, hanging a banner with the phrase Happy Name Day Poppy printed on it. "Balloons, hadn't you seen them before?"

"Save the sarcasm for later, stupid," she told him angrily, "I remember I told you, very specifically, that I wanted white, silver and lilac balloons, not these!"

"Oh, come on!" He exclaimed, stepping down from the chair, "this is a kid's party, not an old lady's party, children like bright colors!"

"Old lady's party? Old lady?! Are you calling me old?!"

There was a knock on the door that no one heard but Poppy.

The rule was to never open the door to strangers, especially if her parents were not present, but her parents were present if only a bit distracted.

Poppy sighed, shaking her head, she loved her mommy and daddy, but they could be so stupid sometimes. She opened the door and a big teddy bear appeared in front of her.

"Hello, my name is Marshmallow and I'm here for Poppy's Name Day party!" The bear spoke with a very funny voice.

Poppy smiled, grabbing the big bear and hugging it close to her, "Hello, Marshmallow!"

"Hey, no hug for me?"

"Uncle Pot Pie!"

"Little Weasel!"

They playfully called and hugged each other.

Gendry's baker friend had become a regular in their lives, he often visited them and they went to his bakery at least once a week since Poppy and Arya loved everything he made.

"Happy Name Day, Poppy," he wished her, letting her go and picking a big box from the floor.

"Is that my cake? Can I see it?"

"Of course you can," he told her.

They walked together to the kitchen and Hot Pie (that was his actual nickname) placed the cake over the kitchen table. He opened the box carefully, "Ta-da! Do you like it?"

Poppy gasped, cradling her face in her little hands, "Oh, it's so pretty!" She said, completely awestruck.

Hot Pie had drawn an image of Queen Nymeria on the cake. Queen Nymeria was a recurring character in her mommy's bedtime stories, she was her favorite and now she was Poppy's favorite too.

"Poppy?"

"Yes, Uncle Pot Pie?" Her gaze was still glued to the cake.

"Uh, where are your parents?" He asked, looking around.

 

_"My taste is better than yours! You don't even have one!"_

_"Oh yeah? Well, then tell my why Poppy preferred most of my suggestions?"_

_"That's because you have the same taste as a six year old girl!"_

_"Well that's better than having an old lady's taste like yours!"_

 

"Oh, there they are," he said, rolling his eyes. "Are they still fighting every day?"

"They are not fighting, Uncle Pot Pie," Poppy said seriously, "they are just discussing loudly."

"Sure they are."

"Uncle Pot Pie?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you think they know they like each other?" She asked him, sounding wiser and older than a six year old.

"I think they do, they are just too stubborn to admit it out loud."

"Oh. . ." Poppy bit her lip, "what do you think it has to happen so they can admit it?

"A miracle," he chuckled.

 

*

 

_Happy Name Day to You_

_Happy Name Day to You_

_Happy Name Day Dear Poppy_

_Happy Name Day to You_

"Wait! Don't blow the candles yet," Arya stopped Poppy, "you have to make a wish first!"

"What kind of wish?"

"Any wish you want," Gendry told her. "You can wish for anything!"

"Even miracles?"

"Even miracles," Arya said.

Before, Poppy had wished her old mommy and daddy would come back from the heavens, but her new mommy and daddy and Mrs. Smallwood had explained her that that was impossible because her parents had never left her in the first place, they had said her parents were always with her, in her heart, and that one day, in the future, she would see them again.

So Poppy wished for something else instead.

 

*

 

The party had been a success. Poppy had a wonderful time and Gendry and Arya were both happy and relieved because it was finally over. No more planning, organizing, or decorating for them.

Still, they were slightly proud of themselves. They had done a great job for this to be their first children's party, everybody had said so at least.

After cleaning and putting everything back into place, they went straight to bed. Neither bothered to take a shower, they were too tired from running, moving and standing all day.

Arya woke up a little past midnight, feeling thirsty. She could not get rid of the chocolate taste not even after washing her teeth twice. It was totally her fault, though, she had eaten her slice of cake plus Poppy and Gendry's leftovers. She went to the kitchen, moving slowly and carefully, she didn't want to wake Gendry who was sleeping in the living the room.

She drank the water in two big gulps and placed the empty glass carefully into the sink.

"Arya?"

She gasped and turned around quickly.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

She shook her head, "Don't worry, you didn't. Did I wake you up?"

"Nah, just couldn't sleep," he smiled a little and rubbed one of his arms, "are you all right?"

"Yeah, just thirsty."

"Oh . . ." He lowered his gaze and went quiet.

Arya took the hint and began to walk out of the kitchen, "Well, good night," she said, not wanting to get lost in the awkward silence. She had barely walked fours steps when he called her name.

"Arya, wait."

She stopped and turned around quickly, not giving her heart and mind the chance to make assumptions. "Yes?"

"I just wanted to apologize for today," he told her, rubbing his neck like he always did when he felt guilty or ashamed.

"Apologize? For what?"

"For getting the wrong balloons on purpose, for saying that you have an old lady's taste, for yelling at you," he sighed, "for being a pain in the ass," he finished.

Arya smiled and walked one step closer to him. "Hey, I am the pain the ass, you shouldn't try to take that title from me."

He chuckled. "Still, I'm sorry."

Arya bit her lip and lowered her gaze. " I guess I'm sorry, too. I haven't been very nice to you, really."

"Arya . . ." he took a deep breath, it looked like he was trying to gain the confidence to say what he wanted to ask her. "Am I a burden to you? Do I really bother you so much?"

She looked up at him, her eyes wide open. "No, not at all," she shook her head energetically, getting closer to him. "I'm sorry for making you feel that way, that wasn't my intention, honestly" she told him, "gods, I'm an asshole."

"No, you aren't an asshole," he assured her, "you are just a pain in the ass . . . a pretty pain in the ass." He waited for an angry reply, a sarcastic comeback, but when none of those things happened and he noticed the soft, almost shy look on her face, he knew it was time. He closed the distance between them, placing one of his hands on her waist while the other went to caress her face, they were so close that they could feel each other's heart beats. He smiled, his mouth a hair's breadth away from hers, "My pretty pain in the ass," he whispered against his lips before he kissed her.

They kissed softly at first, getting used to each other, allowing their lips to find a rhythm, their hands shy and unsure as they mapped and memorized their bodies . . . but then, all the pent-up emotions and sexual frustration as well as the romantic tension kicked in and Gendry quickly found himself without his shirt and with Arya's arms and legs wrapped around him.

Gendry moved to place Arya on top of the kitchen counter, to make things easier, and they continued moaning and kissing and touching each other until they needed a moment to breathe properly.

"I've been dying to do that," Arya told him, nuzzling his neck.

"Me too," he said, almost without breath.

"I can't believe it took us this long to kiss," she added, placing small kisses along his jawline.

Gendry snorted. "Yeah, I can't believe it either." If only she knew. He cradled her face in his hands, lifting it up a little. "I know it's not my name day or anything but, would you grant me a wish?" He asked her, kissing her forehead, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips.

"Well, when you put it that way," she answered, smiling. "What is it?"

"Would you like to practice the art of baby-making? I think Poppy would like to have a little brother or sister to play with."

She gasped and place her left hand over her chest. "Are you using emotional blackmail to convince me of having sex with you?" She asked him.

"Maybe."

"You should feel ashamed, I thought you knew me better," she told him, acting playfully offended.

"Well, did it work? Would you like to?"

"I would love t-"

She barely had the time to finish the sentence before Gendry lifted her in his arms and carried her towards her bedroom, almost running.

 

*

 

Poppy woke up the next day to find her mommy and daddy watching the TV in the living room, wrapped around each other and kissing on the lips.

"See, Mrs. Weasel?" She said to the old stuffed animal, "Name Day wishes do come true."

She smiled, calling for them and ran straight into her parents open arms.

 

*

 

Some say death brings people together, draws families closer and brings distant friends near.

For Arya, Gendry and Poppy, it proved to be right.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Weasel feels are the best/worst feels.


	13. Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of based on another Tumblr prompt. I'll put the link at the bottom in case you want to write your own version. :)
> 
> As always, don't judge my grammar.

 

As soon as she heard the news, she almost stuck herself with Needle for being stubborn and stupid. She had been so cold towards him, acting like she didn't remember him when in fact he had been present in many of her wolf dreams, even while she was still living in Braavos. Hell, she hadn't even aknowledged his presence when he had wished her luck before the battle.

 

He had been injured right by the end of the fight, but no one had been kind enough to let her know.

 

_Why would they? When you tried so hard to act like you didn't care about him._

 

And now, perhaps, it was too late.

 

_Stupid, stupid, stupid._

 

While she ran towards his tent, fearing the worst, the last remnants of her facade disappeared and the memories of a scared little girl whose heart he had broken once came back to her.

 

_If you want to be some stupid outlaw knight and get hanged, why should I care? I'll be at Riverrun, ransomed, with my brother._

 

Oh, but she had cared. She still cared even if she had tried her best to pretend otherwise.

 

That's why she had fought to convince Jon to not let him and his men join the fight, because she was worried his bullheadedness was going to kill him and not because he was just a knight in name who knew nothing about fighting and even less about commanding men into battle.

 

 _He knows nothing, Jon!_ She had assured to his beloved brother who looked at her with a sad look before he told her he was sure Ser Gendry knew something if he had survived this long.

 

As she got closer to his tent, she could see a large man standing in front of the opening, keeping guard. _Why now and not before when it mattered?_ she angrily asked herself.

 

She had first heard the news from some of the men who had come with him from the Riverlands. His brothers, those who saw him as their leader and who had done a shit job to keep him safe.

 

The ones he had chosen over her.

 

She wanted to poke them full of holes for failing to protect him.

 

She almost poked the man guarding his tent to death when he tried to stop her from entering. He had had the nerve to tell her Gendry was dying and that there was nothing she could do to save him. Arya knocked him unconscious for saying that.

 

 _They don't even care enough to keep him company during his last moments,_ she thought bitterly.

 

She closed the tent flap tightly, to keep the cold winds out as much as possible, and turned around slowly, too scared of looking at him, of losing him.

 

She moved closer to the small cot where he was lying, paying attention to his chest, trying to see if he was still breathing.

 

He was.

 

If it weren't for the many bruises and cuts he had on his face and chest and the thick bandages on his stomach, she could have swore there was nothing wrong with him. His skin still had some color, his breathing was steady and his face looked calm and peaceful, so different from all the dying people she had seen at the temple and during her time in the Riverlands.

 

She sat down by his side, carefully, trying not to touch his wounded body.

 

"Hello," she said softly, holding back her tears.

 

Once, a wise man she had met in Braavos had told her that hearing was the last sense a person lost before dying and while she had been skeptical of his talk then, she had chosen to believe in his words this time.

 

"I would have come earlier, but no one told me you had been injured," she told him, trying to apologize for her lateness. "But it's my fault, for being so stupid," she smiled, trying to lighten up her voice.

 

"This cot is too small for you, you know? What did they feed you back in that Inn that made you so big?"

 

 _Probably not much, considering how many of the kids who lived there died from hunger,_ she considered.

 

"As soon as you get a bit better I will have some men move you inside the castle, you will be more comfortable there and you won't be so cold," she moved her hand closer to his, "this fire won't be of much help when another winter storm comes," she caressed his hand with her finger tips and was surprised to find that his skin still kept some warmth.

 

"You are a Southerner after all," she told him, almost accusingly, "no matter how far in the freezing North you are, you are still hot," a small smile formed on her lips. "Are all of you Southerners like that? Or are you a special case because you lived almost all your life close to the fires?"

 

She continued caressing his hand, wanting to feel more of him, trying to make up for lost time and the wasted chances. "Do you remember when we were little? When we were traveling with Yoren? I always managed to find a way to sleep close to you, did you notice? It wasn't out of fear of the other recruits, but because you were always warm."

 

She held his hand, lifting it up slowly to place it over her tigh. "I stopped doing that after you told me you knew I was a girl, I'm still not sure why, I doubt you cared."

 

She smiled again, "It didn't matter though, after we escaped from Harrenhal you always found a way to sleep close to me." Her thumb kept rubbing gentle circles on the back of his hand.

 

"Am I warm, Gendry? I don't think I am. Most of the men seem to agree with me, have you heard what they call me? the cold bitch, the wolf bitch, the she-wolf . . ."

 

She went quiet for a moment, getting lost in the near perfection of his battered yet handsome face, but she shook herself when she started to imagine things. She was sure Gendry was incapable of frowning and pursing his lips while he was unconscious.

 

"I don't mind being called she-wolf, though, I like it," she continued, "It's better than Horseface or Lumpyhead. Do you remember? Lommy came up with that one."

 

She let go of his hand, placing it carefully on the cot again, and moved even closer to him. "If you wake up, I promise I will let you call me in any way you want. Arry, Lumpyhead, Nan, Squab," she made a pause, fighting back the tears that seemed to be winning the battle, and whispered softly, "M'lady."

 

She smiled as she lost the fight and the tears started to fall down her cheeks. "Do you like that one? I'm sure you do and I promise I won't push you next time you call me m'lady," she assured him.

 

"Please, open your eyes, you have to wake up!" She exclaimed between sobs.

 

"You can't die, you can't leave me, not now that the worst is over and we have the chance to start again."

 

Despite the small space left in the cot, she managed to squeeze herself next to Gendry. It was in times like this that she felt grateful for having inherited the long and lean body of the Starks. She was resting on her side, her right arm over his chest, rubbing his bearded cheek with her fingers while she nuzzled his neck.

 

"Please, open your eyes," she asked him one more time, "if you leave, who's going to fight with me and tell me the error of my ways?"

 

With the years, lying had became as easy to her as breathing, but believing, feeling and living her own lies had been the one art she had never managed to master. She thought she was a failure for it, the Kindly man had told her as much, but living willingly a life of lies was for the faceless people, the no ones, and not for Arya Stark.

 

And she wasn't going to continue lying to herself about this anymore. Her feelings were pretty clear.

 

"I love you," she told him, and her chest felt lighter because it.

 

No more lies, no more facades, no more fear.

 

"I love you," she said again, "and it hurts me that you will never know."

 

She tightened her hold on him for a moment and withdrew, lifting herself up a little, and then smoothed her hand on his cheek, down his neck, and across his chest.

 

"If-if you wake up, I promise you I will never l-leave your side, I will listen to all you have to say, I-I- will ask Bran to let you stay at Winterfell," she continued caressing his face, her sobs shaking her body, "or if you want to go back to the Riverlands, I promise I will go with you, Nymeria likes it there. I could even t-tell the Dragon Queen t-to find a place for you in her council if y-you wish to return to King's Landing, I think s-she likes me, I'm sure I c-can convince her to do it."

 

Her sobs were deeper now, but her body was no longer shaking. Slowly, she leaned her face closer to his and rubbed her cheek against his jaw. She lifted her face, so she could see his and whispered, "Come on, Gendry, open your eyes," she pleaded once more. "We can even stay here if you want, they still need a smith and I could help you, we could be together. . . there's a godswood here, you know? we could . . . we could . . ." she didn't say more, it hurt too much.

 

"We could what, m'lady?" He asked her, with one eye open and a stupid smile on his face.

 

She leaned back a little, shocked and speechless.

 

"Go on, you were getting close to the best part."

 

"You!" The words got stuck on her throat, she was furious and so incredibly happy, "You stupid asshole! You tricked me!" She finally managed to say.

 

"I had to! I had had enough of your stubborness, I needed you to be honest with yourself!"

 

She tried to get away, but Gendry grabbed her by the waist, pulling her closer to him.

 

"Let me go!"

 

He shook his head. "Did you forget your promises already?"

 

"N-No! I just don't want to put my weight over your wound."

 

"How thoughtful, but you shouldn't worry so much, m'lady." He smirked as he tightened his hold on her, refusing to let her go. He lifted his free hand to her face as it to pull her closer, but she resisted, she had to. If she let him hold her any closer she wouldn't be able to control herself anymore.

 

"I-I have to go, I should let your brothers know you are better now, I-"

 

"No, m'lady, you are not going anywhere."

 

He pulled her down and she fell on top of him, her small breasts flattened against his naked chest and she felt her nipples getting hard from the sensation. She could feel the warmth of the blush as it crawled up her neck and cheeks. "Be careful, stupid, your wound!" She tried to distract herself to stop the tingles that she felt on her belly, but it was almost impossible and he wasn't helping.

 

He looked at her, wiggling his eyebrows up and down, and with his free hand pulled off the bandages in one quick movement.

 

"Why did you do that, stupid?!" She yelled, taking the bandages and trying to put them back into place. "You have to-," she gasped. His wound was a small one, the cut was clean and closed together with the kind of perfect stitches that would have made Septa Mordane proud. Arya lifted up her gaze to find him looking at her, smirking like an idiot. "You stupid! You are a liar and a-"

 

He cut off her protest with his lips. He kissed her with hot, urgent kisses, tasting her, opening her mouth, seeking her tongue, like a man who had been starving for too long. Her tongue met his with eagerness and she felt the tingles move lower down her body and went almost limp.

 

Gods, she loved the taste of him, the feeling of his hard body against hers. She had never felt something like this before and if she were to die tomorrow, even in the next hour, she knew she would die happy.

 

He continued stroking deeply in her mouth, sucking on her tongue and she opened herself more for him. Her hands clutched his upper arms and he rolled her over so he could lie on top of her. Then her arms wrapped around his neck and her fingers were in his hair, tugging, as he murmured something against her lips, she tried to listen, she really did, but as his mouth made a mess of her senses, she couldn't do anything but feel.

 

He slid one hand down her side to her bottom, filling his palm with her firm flesh, pulling her closer, and she let out a soft moan that was quickly followed by a loud groan when he suddenly stopped kissing her and loosened his hold on her.

 

"I'm sorry," he muttered, she could easily see the shame on his face, "I know it's not right, but I couldn't help myself, you just feel so good."

 

"Then why did you stop, stupid?" She asked him, smirking, and moved to kiss him again, but he drew back, staring at her.

 

Gods, she had missed that face, the one with the pained look that he always got when he thought too hard.

 

"What?"

 

"I love you, Arya."

 

"I know," she rolled her eyes playfully. "Come on now, the future depends on us," she said sweetly, moving to craddle his hips between her legs.

 

"The future depends on us fucking?"

 

"Well of course! How else are we going to fill the North with the next generation of little wolves and bulls," she told him with a wolfish grin and pulled him down for another kiss.

 

They didn't stop after that.

 

 

([x](http://otpdisaster.tumblr.com/post/104176661264/person-b-holding-an-unconscious-person-a-and))


	14. Chest pains 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> bookskitten, this one is for you.
> 
> Enjoy the spelling errors! ^0^/

 

It was a peaceful Saturday evening at the Stark's home and Ned Stark was getting ready to watch another football game in the company of his younger children.

 

He didn't want to admit it out loud, but he was glad Bran and Rickon were still too young to date and go out on their own, and he was even more grateful that his Arya still preferred his company and watching football players chase a ball over chasing them herself.

 

"Here come the snacks!" his youngest son exclaimed, balancing two bowls in his hands as he made some sort of dance, his lips and fingers already stained with cheese.

 

"Rickon, mom is going to kill you if you drop the dip on the carpet again," Bran warned him.

 

"You are no fun, Mr. Party Pooper," Rickon replied, putting the bowls over the coffe table, "you don't let me be a kid!" He told his brother, falling on the couch dramatically.

 

"I don't let you act like an idiot, which is different."

 

"You are so mean, Brandon," Rickon pouted, crossing his arms over his chest, pretending to be hurt.

 

"Stop children, let's enjoy the game." His sons took their respective seats as he opened his beer, put some chips on a small plastic plate and leaned back on the couch, getting comfortable, but he knew something was missing. _Someone_ , to be more precise.

 

"Where's your sister?" He asked them, looking around and behind the couch. Arya loved to play tricks on him, usually by hiding and scaring him almost to death.

 

"She's getting ready to-" Ned Stark didn't miss the threatening look Bran directed towards his younger brother, who popped a buch of chips into his mouth to make the sudden interruption less awkward.

 

"Getting ready for what?" He had to ask.

 

"To watch the game of course," Bran said, keeping his gaze glued to the screen, "she's probably putting on her jersey or something."

 

Ned nodded, putting on a jersey couldn't take too long.

 

And he was right, a couple of minutes later he heard the very distinctive footsteps of her daughter as she ran down the stairs. But after a little while, when she didn't appear in the living room, he knew there was something fishy going on.

 

"Oh boy, here we go," he heard Rickon murmur softly as he walked out of the living room. Something was definitely happening with Arya.

 

A few steps into the hall that connected the living room with the foyer, he managed to catch a glimpse of his daughter, who was walking from one side of the entrance to the other, while talking on her phone.

 

And she was defnitely not wearing her Direwolves jersey.

 

On the contrary, she was wearing a dress (one that reached her knees, thank the gods), she had let her hair down and it seemed that she had given her usual boots and tennis a break because a new pair of flat shoes were on her feet.

 

Ned Stark could feel the chest pains coming in.

 

As he got closer, he was able to hear part of her conversation with the person on the other side of the line.

 

_"I told you a million times already, he's not going to kill you . . . Don't be silly, he loves you, he wouldn't do that to you, I hope . . . I'm joking! Gods! . . . Oh, c'mon! You know well we don't let them eat meat . . . Well if that happens, Nymeria will protect you, I promise . . . I swear to the old gods and the new if I don't see your stupid face in the next couple of minutes I will call Edric and- . . . Well, then stop acting stupid, stupid!"_

 

Ned Stark knew pretty well who the "stupid" was.

 

Her daughter ended the conversation and placed her cellphone inside her small bag.

 

"Arya?" Her daughter jumped a little as she heard her name being called.

 

"Oh, hi daddy!"

 

"The game just started," he told her, hoping she would kick off her shoes and run upstairs for her jersey, "let's hope your brothers haven't eaten all the snacks already, come on."

 

"Um, about that, I think I won't be watching the game with you this time," she told him, looking a bit guilty.

 

"What? Why?"

 

"Well, Gendry is coming-"

 

"Oh that's fine, he can join us, the more the merrier!"

 

His Arya bit her lip and gave him a look that brought back memories of another spirited young girl whose grey eyes had stopped shinning a long time ago.

 

"No, dad," she said, shaking her head a little, "I'm going out with Gendry."

 

He sighed. He knew he had to be a different father, a better one, unless he wished history to repeat itself. "Where are you going?"

 

"We are going to eat before watching a movie."

 

"You can do both of those things here, for free!" He exclaimed, hoping his offer was appealing enough for his little girl.

 

It wasn't.

 

The sound of an approaching car could be heard in the distance and she grabbed her keys, taking one last descreet look at herself on the mirror that adorned the entrance.

 

"It's a date, dad," she told him, pecking his cheek, "I'll be back before eleven, okay?"

 

He couldn't even manage to say a word before his daughter opened the door and took the boy standing on the other side by the hand, dragging him quickly away from the house.

 

"Don't worry, Mr. Stark, I'll take care of her- Ouch, Arya!"

 

"I can take care of myself, stupid!"

 

That was the last thing he heard before they got inside the car, driving away from him. He closed the door behind him and sat down on the stairs.

 

"Ned? Are you all right?"

 

He slowly shook his head. "Cat . . ."

 

"Yes?"

 

He looked up to meet his wife's lovely eyes. "Arya went out," he rubbed his chest, the pains were getting stronger, "on a date."

 

"Oh. . ." his wife smiled, giving him a pitying look, "with Gendry?"

 

He nodded.

 

"Thank the Seven," she said, before taking a seat by his side.

 

"Thank the Seven? Cat, she's a little girl, she shouldn't be dating, not yet."

 

"Ned, she's _your_ little girl, but she's not _a_ little girl, not anymore," she told him, stroking his arm lovingly, "she's sixteen, it's normal that she wants to go out and date."

 

"But why?"

 

"Because that's how life goes, don't be silly."

 

"But why Gendry?"

 

"Because he is her best friend and she has had a crush on him for as long as I can remember, I would not be surprised if they kissed for the first time at her birthday party."

 

"Cat, please," he begged her, not wanting to hear more.

 

"Ned, you knew this was going to happen eventually, we talked about it, even Robert warned you a few times."

 

"Yes, but-"

 

"But nothing, just let them be," she said, patting his knee a few times. "Now let's go watch the game, we don't want to miss it."

 

"Cat, you hate football."

 

"And you hate going to the Sept, but you still accompany me every Sunday."

 

"Because I love you," he said standing up, reaching for his wife's hand.

 

"Now you know why," she smiled at him and kissed his lips, "Come on, let's see if Rickon hasn't changed the color of the carpet yet."

 

*****

 

As she had promised, they were back a few minutes before the clock hit eleven.

 

Cat and Bran had gone upstairs already and Rickon was on the kitchen, eating what was left of the chocolate cake they had had for dessert. He was the only one left in the living room by the time he heard Gendry's car arriving at his home.

 

He turned off the TV and walked quickly towards the entrance. He didn't want to spy on his daughter, he just wanted to make sure she was all right. He took a look outside, through the window, and wished he hadn't done that.

 

They were kissing. On the lips. With their arms wrapped around each other.

 

Ned felt like someone was hitting him in the chest with a hammer.

 

They broke the kiss after a while and he could see that Gendry was murmuring something softly to his daughter, who smiled at him in a way he had never seen before.

 

The boy started walking and Ned wondered why his daughter wasn't letting him go, and that's when he noticed she was barefoot and standing on his feet. He walked her across the gravel road until they reached the grass and she let him go then, but not before giving him another peck on the lips. He went to his car and came back with her shoes. He handed them to her, but before she could put them on, he lifted her into his arms.

 

"Put me down, stupid!" She told him, trying to keep his voice down.

 

Gendry was smiling like an idiot.

 

"I can't, m'lady, I promised your father I was going to take care of you and I will."

 

"Stupid," she muttered, trying to sound angry, but Ned knew his daughter well and he could see the smile she was trying to hide, the shine on her eyes and if it wasn't dark, he bet he could even see the blush on her cheeks.

 

"Enjoying the view?"

 

"Cat!" He jumped and turned around, taken by surprise, his wife was standing at the bottom of the stairs.

 

"If Arya finds out you were spying on her, she's going to give you war."

 

"I wasn't spying on her!" He assured her, a bit offended by the accusation. "I was just making sure she was all right."

 

"Mhmm."

 

He took a quick look outside and saw that his daughter was being carried to the back of the house.

 

"Where are they going?"

 

"To the tree house, I suppose."

 

"The tree house? To do what?"

 

"I don't know, to play Monsters-and-Maidens perhaps?"

 

"Cat . . ."

 

"Don't worry, I'm sure Arya will make Gendry play the role of the maiden just like when they were little.

 

"Are you making fun of me?" he asked her, a suspicious look on his face.

 

"Of course not," she said, extending her hand to him, "let's go to bed, Arya will be happy that we let her play for a little longer."

 

"Cat!"

 

Ned Stark just knew the chest pains were not going to allow him sleep tonight.


	15. Crowds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not crazy about this one, but I suppose it's better than nothing.

 

 

Gendry stopped walking and heaved a deep sigh, the crowd was worse than he had expected. "We should have come early like I told you." 

 

"Nonsense, who wants to come here during the day?" 

 

"Um, I don't know, the smart people?" 

 

Arya lifted her head to look him in the eyes, something she hated to do because according to her his massive height was annoying and it made her neck hurt. 

 

"The boring people you mean," she corrected him, a mischievous look on her face. "We need to find a good spot, c'mon!" she said, pulling him towards the entrance of the park. 

 

As they reached the area where most people were waiting for the next concert to begin (which was of course the place where Arya wanted to be), Gendry became a little worried. Some guys were drunk already, others were jumping and pulling at each other, and he knew once the concert started things were only going to get worse.

 

"What?" Arya asked him, pulling him away from his thoughts. 

 

"I didn't say anything." 

 

She rolled her eyes. "I know, but you have your thinking face on, what's wrong?"

 

"Did you bring your cellphone?" 

 

"Yeah, why?"

 

"Nothing, just make sure you have the vibrating ring on, in case I need to call you." 

 

"Why would you need to call me?" 

 

"If you get lost among the crowd." 

 

"I'm not a child, I can't get lost!" 

 

Gendry gave her a look. "Remember last time? I spent two hours looking for you and I don't want that to happen again. I don't need more reasons for your family to hate me." 

 

Arya frowned and shook her head. "They don't hate you." 

 

He snorted, "Yeah, right." 

 

"They don't!" 

 

"Whatever you say, Arry." 

 

Arya huffed and punched him lightly on the arm. 

 

He knew she was right, though, they didn't hate him, not exactly. It was more like a mixture of distrust, prejudice and a bit of snobbery what her family felt towards him. When Arya's parents found out about their friendship (thanks to her very classist sister), Gendry was sure she was going to disappear from his life, like most people did once they discovered he was a lowborn bastard living in the slums, but Arya proved him wrong. She challenged her family and called them out on their double standards (one of her brothers was a bastard, too, and her mother was heavily involved in charity work for poor families) and refused to let him go. 

 

And because of that, Gendry loved her more than anything. 

 

A friendly kind of love, don't get him wrong. She was too smart, too rich, and far too pretty for the likes of him. 

 

"Hello? Earth calling Gendry?" 

 

"Sorry, what?" 

 

"I said that I will stick close to you, I promise." 

 

"You said the same thing the last time and I had to look for your tiny self for hours."

 

"Gods, you are annoying!" 

 

"Yes, but you like me like that," he winked at her and even though she rolled her eyes, he noticed when she discreetly bit her lip to hide a smile. 

 

"I don't like you, I just like your driving license." 

 

"How materialistic of you." 

 

She shrugged. "I'm rich, what can I say? And you love me the way I am." 

 

He laughed because she was right. He did love her the way she was, but again, as a friend. 

 

"I have an idea," she said and before he could ask her about it, she was holding his hand. "That way we won't be separated, c'mon!" She smiled and pulled him towards the crowd. 

 

Gendry discovered two things that night. The first was that holding hands was indeed a good way to keep two people together. The second was that Arya's soft hand fit perfectly in his. 

 

* 

 

She had dragged him to one of her uncle Robert's closing campaign events and he didn't know why. The man was a fat drunk and a shitty politician (and a cheater who had several bastards if the rumors were true). Hells, he wasn't even her uncle, that was just the way rich kids called their parents' close friends. 

 

"Remind me again, why am I here?" he asked her while he tried to find an empty parking spot. 

 

"Because I asked you to come with me."

 

"And why did you want to come?" 

 

"Because I had to and because there's going to be lots of good food."

 

He gave her an incredulous look. 

 

"What? It's true." 

 

"If you say so." He parked the car and they both got out of it quickly, since it was raining and they forgot to bring an umbrella. 

 

Arya ran to his side and held onto his hand. He said nothing, just looked at her with curiousity. 

 

"So I won't fall, I can't even walk with these shoes."

 

"But those are flats." 

 

"They are slippery, okay?" 

 

"I see." He looked towards the opposite side and smiled. 

 

As they walked through the lobby of the fancy hotel, Gendry felt completely out of place. There were lots of cameras and lots of very elegant people. 

 

"Scared?" Arya asked him, elbowing him softly on his side.

 

"No, I'm just questioning my common sense, I don't belong in this kind of place, with this kind of people." 

 

"Hey," she called him, nudging him again, "I understand if you don't want to be here, I won't be mad if you leave," she assured him. 

 

"Nah, don't worry. If Flea Bottom can't scare me, a few rich guys certainly won't," he chuckled. 

 

"That's because you still haven't met Tywin Lannister." 

 

"Who?" 

 

She laughed and shook his head.  "No one, I'm just joking. C'mon, I don't want to miss the show."

 

There were a lot of guests in the main hall and even more reporters and photographers, all pushing at each other to find the closest spot to the stage. 

 

"Ugh, this place is packed, we won't be able to reach our seats," she complained.

 

"I don't know, I've seen worse, remember the last concert we went to? 

 

"Yeah..." She got a pensive look and he knew he had to ask. 

 

"What is it?"

 

"We should hold hands, like the last time, so we won't be separated," she suggested, keeping her voice light and casual, too casual.

 

"If you don't mind." 

 

"Why would I?" 

 

"There are many photographers here, they could take a picture, create rumors." 

 

She snorted very loudly and took his hand. "I don't give a fuck and I doubt they care. Besides, you don't want to risk my family's anger, right?" 

 

Her wolfish grin was both scary and amusing. 

 

"Right." 

 

They eventually found a good spot, close to one of the exits and the food and away from the reporters. Arya held onto him for the duration of her uncle's boring speech and kept whispering silly comments about it on his ear.

 

"You are wrong, you know?" she spoke to him softly, "you do belong here, with me." She squeezed his hand lightly and placed a peck on his cheek. 

 

"What was that for?" 

 

She must have taken the tone of his question the wrong way because she quickly let go of his hand and refused to meet his eyes. "Sorry," she apologized, "I don't know why I did that, I guess I was just trying to show you my gratitude, but it won't happen again, I promise." She kept her head low and her gaze glued to the floor. 

 

Gendry smiled. Arya could be so fierce and willful, but she also had a soft side that not many people got to see, and he felt grateful for not being one of them. He reached for her hand and wrapped it in his, tucking it gently against his side. "Stupid," he whispered before pressing a firm kiss to her temple. "Wanna go to Hot Pie's?" 

 

She looked up at him, a shy smile on her lips, and nodded.

 

"Let's go then." 

 

She remained unusually quiet, but held his hand all the way to the car. 

 

And later that night, as they ate their double burgers in the middle of the busy restaurant, all Gendry could think about was how nice Arya's lips felt against his skin. 

  

* 

 

They had been wandering around the overcrowded mall for one hour and Gendry still didn't know why. Arya wasn't really into shopping and with his limited budget, he was not the sort of person who spent his money at such kind of place. 

 

"Fuck, this is _really_ crowded," she said, stating the obvious, "I wonder why?"

 

"Gee, I don't know, perhaps the back to school sales have something to do with it?" 

 

Arya huffed, "Smartass." 

 

He shook his head. "Arya, what are we doing here? It's been an hour and you still haven't gotten anything, we should leave." 

 

"Gods!" She exclaimed, looking offended, "A very important part of the shopping experience is hanging out with your friends, but if you don't want to be here, you know, _with your best friend_ , you can leave, I don't care." She crossed her arms over her chest and turned her back on him. 

 

He couldn't help it, he burst into laughter.

 

"Why are you laughing? It's not funny!" 

 

"Yes, it is," he kept lauhging and that earned him a few punches, "Ow, stop hitting me!" 

 

"Stop laughing then!" 

 

He did and she stopped. 

 

"As punishment for complaining, I will drag you around the mall one more time," she reached for his hand and pulled him towards her. 

 

He groaned, but let her do as she pleased.

 

Twenty minutes later, they were walking out of the mall, with no shopping bags and still holding hands. 

 

Arya loved to tease him by calling him slow and thick headed, but Gendry was no fool and he had a growing suspicion that she was playing tricks on him. 

 

* 

 

This time they were at the grocery store, getting some food to fill Gendry's nearly empty fridge.

 

They got a cart and as they walked through the aisles, trying to find the products they had coupons for, Gendry felt Arya's hand slipping in his. 

 

He looked down at her, a questioning look on his face. 

 

"There's too many people here, you know I don't like the big crowds," she told him in all fake seriousness. 

 

Gendry looked around and smiled, the store was practically empty.  "Yeah, I can see that." 

 

He pulled her closer to him and pressed a kiss to her forehead. 

 

"If you are going to kiss me, at least do it properly!" 

 

He chuckled and wrapped his arms around her. "And if you are going to trick me, at least do it right," he told her before kissing her softly on the lips. 

 

"Thank the gods you finally got it," she said, after they pulled apart, "I was running out of crowds, as you can tell." 

 

They both laughed and held hands and didn't let go. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Sort of) based on the prompt: “You’re afraid that you’ll lose me in big crowds so you always hold my hand but now you just hold my hand when there’s only, like, five people around and I’m getting very suspicious”


	16. Hero

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Direwolf86 requested another baby drabble and here it is.
> 
> Enjoy.

 

 

"Ready to meet your baby sister?"  Gendry asked his sons. 

 

"Yeah!" Robbie exclaimed cheerfully, excited to meet his new sister while his little brother Jon remained quiet by his side. 

 

"Here she is," Gendry smiled as he opened the door. 

 

"Momma!" Robbie ran towards the bed where his mother was resting, holding a little bundle in her arms.

 

"Hello, sweetie!" Arya greeted her son, her voice softer than usual. 

 

"These are for you, momma!" The boy smiled, holding up a small bouquet of flowers. 

 

"Oh, they are beautiful!" She exclaimed, leaning over a little to smell them, "Do you want to say hi to your baby sister?" Robbie nodded. 

 

Arya lowered her arms gently, trying not to disturb the sleeping baby, so Robbie could see his sister more easily.  "Robbie, this is your baby sister, Alys. Alys, this is your big brother, Robbie."

 

"Hello, Alys," Robbie said, caressing the baby's tiny hand with his fingertips, "she's so little, momma." 

 

Arya smiled, "Yes she is, and so were you." She moved to kiss her son on his forehead. 

 

Gendry cleared his throat, trying to catch his wife's attention. Arya looked up at him with a questioning look and he pointed discreetly towards the entrance of the room. 

 

She took a glance and immediately understood. Jon was standing against the door, looking at the floor. 

 

"Gendry, could you put the flowers on that vase over there," she asked her husband. "Robbie, could you help your dad? 

 

"Yes, momma." Gendry and Robbie went to the bathroom to fill the vase with water, giving Arya the chance she needed to speak with her younger son. 

 

"Jon," she called his name softly, "come here." 

 

He walked slowly, refusing to meet her eyes. 

 

"Don't you want to see your baby sister?" 

 

He shrugged. 

 

Arya bit back a smile. "Come closer, Jon." 

 

He leaned over the bed and gave her sister a quick look. 

 

"So, what do you think?" 

 

"She's so ugly, mommy, can't you send her back?"

 

Arya wanted to laugh, not only at her son's words, but at the mere idea of having to push the baby back into her belly. 

 

"Jon, that's not nice," she said, with a firm but gentle tone of voice.

 

"But it's true mommy, she's all red and puffy." 

 

"That's because she's a newborn, but in a few days she will be as beautiful as you are, trust me." 

 

Her son gave her a dubious look. "Okay, I trust you," he finally told her, not sounding very convinced.

 

"Can you give her a kiss?" 

 

The little boy scrunched up his nose. 

 

"Please?" 

 

"Okay," Jon said, exhaling a defeated sigh. He pecked the baby's cheek and leaned back, "There, I did it." 

 

The baby smiled in her sleep, taking them both by surprise. 

 

"Oh, did you see that Jon? You made her smile for the first time!" 

 

Her son looked at her with wide eyes, "Really? Why?" 

 

"Because she loves you so much, just like I do, my sweet pup," she told him, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

 

Jon gave his mother a toothy grin and reached for his sister's little hand. "Don't sent her back, mommy," he said, "I think it's okay if we keep her." 

 

Arya laughed and held her son close to her. "Don't worry, sweetie, she's here to stay."

 

* 

 

The whole family was enjoying a quiet spring afternoon in the living room. Arya and Gendry were cuddled together on the couch, relaxing while their kids played around them. Robbie was busy building a castle with plastic blocks, Jon was playing with his knight dolls, and Alys was walking from one piece of furniture to the other, happy to enjoy her newfound freedom.

 

In a moment of fierce independence, however, she decided to walk towards her brother Jon, far from any form of support. 

 

Her still unsteady baby feet failed her and she tripped, hitting her knee in one of the building blocks, and she let out a whimper. 

 

Gendry was the first one to react, rushing to help his little princess, but Arya pulled him back.

 

"She's fine," she said, shaking her head a little. 

 

"But-" 

 

"Look," she interrupted him, gesturing towards their daughter. 

 

The toddler reached out her arms, making grabby hands in her younger brother's direction. Alys had made it clear from the very beginning that Jon was her favorite and it was easy to understand why.

 

"Did you get an owie?" Jon asked his little sister, sitting in front of her.

 

The girl nodded, her lips in a cute little pout. 

 

"Where?" 

 

The girl pointed at her knee, that had a tiny, barely visible scratch on it. 

 

"I'll make it better," Jon told her, and he leaned over, raining kisses on her wounded knee.

 

Alys giggled and moved to give her brother a hug. " _Jon,_ " she mumbled his name in her sweet baby voice.

 

"Did you hear that? She said my name! Alys said my name!"

 

"Oh gods!" Gendry and Arya exclaimed at the same time, both happy and shocked. 

 

Robbie smiled and ran towards his siblings. "You are her first word, Jon!"

 

Jon grinned proudly and picked his sister up, holding her close to him. "I'm Alys' first word, momma!" 

 

"Of course you are, you are her hero!" 

 

Jon's smile grew even bigger and together with his older brother, kept asking Alys to say other words. 

 

"And to think he wanted to send her back," Gendry said, hugging his wife close to him. 

 

"I know," Arya smiled, a little teary eyed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The inspiration for this came from a prompt on Tumblr, my personal experience with my brother, and one episode of The Simpsons, lol.


	17. Like a Lannister without gold

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know.
> 
> Sorry.

 

Gendry was relaxing after a hard day at work.

 

He had arrived home later than usual, so he rushed to get ready to go out, only to have his date call him at the last minute to 'postpone' their plans for another day. He thought he should have felt a little bummed out, but in truth, he didn't feel miserable at all, just, perhaps, a bit lonely.

 

He reheated the big chunk of meatloaf and mashed potatoes Sharna had sent him with Hot Pie the day before, grabbed a beer and got ready to spend the night watching some trashy TV shows.

 

He was just dozing off on the couch when four very loud bangs put him on alert.

 

"What the fuck?" he muttered, rubbing his eyes.

 

The person continued banging on his door like crazy and Gendry knew it had to be an asshole.

 

Or maybe it was someone in the middle of an emergency.

 

He glanced through the peephole and couldn't see anything, which meant the person on the other side had covered it in some way.

 

_Definitely an asshole._

 

Gendry exhaled, dealing with an idiot was not part of his night schedule, so he decided to open the door, ready to yell and throw some punches and get rid of the annoyance as quickly as possible.

 

He pulled the door open with one quick movement and, in less than one second, his plans to kick some idiot's ass went straight to the Seven Hells.

 

The idiot was actually a girl and if his mother had taught him something was that you don't hit girls, no matter what, so he had to rethink his strategy.

 

"Um, hello?" _Awesome._

 

The girl stood still and remained quiet.

 

"Are you alright?"

 

She was looking at him with what he could only describe as hungry eyes. She licked her bottom lip a couple of times, moving closer to him, looking like a predator who was about to eat her next victim.

 

Gendry gulped, the girl made him nervous for some reason.

 

"Do you need help? Are you lost?"

 

He waited for an answer but got none, so he took a step back and then another, and that got a reaction from her.

 

"You," the girl grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, pulling him close to her, almost face to face, "listen to me," her voice was deep and a bit raspy.

 

 _Oh great, she's drunk._ Her breath smelled like pepper beer and he wondered why a young girl like her would drank her weight in cheap alcohol. "I'm listening," he assured her.

 

"I'm very hungry right now and you are the only one who can satisfy my needs," she said, not breaking eye contact with him.

 

Her big grey eyes and her sultry voice made for a very powerful and risky combination. Gendry was good at controlling his desires, but he could not deny that the girl was having an effect on him.

 

"Uh... what do you need?" _This is wrong, we don't even know each other._

 

The girl moved even closer to him, their lips were a hair's breadth away from each other.

 

"Get me some fries, now!" she ordered him, but the authoritarian undertone of her words got lost in the absurdity of her demand.

 

"What?" He asked her, amused and feeling like an idiot, and a bit disappointed too.

 

"You heard me, buddy," she said, tightening the grip on his shirt, "so don't make me say it again, I'm hungry and dangerous."

 

She pushed him inside of his apartment and closed the door behind her, kicking off her shoes at the same time. Gendry smiled, she could barely reach his shoulder without them.

 

"Does m'lady want something else apart from the fries?" He decided to play along, she seemed to be an angry kind of drunk, and Gendry knew the best way to deal with her type was to keep them happy... at least until he got her name and adress to send her home.

 

She pulled him close to her one more time and warned him, "If you call me m'lady again, I will punch you in your pretty face."

 

He bit his cheeks to stop himself from laughing. "Oh, am I pretty?"

 

She moved her face closer to his and looked directly at his eyes. "Give me my fucking fries," and she pushed him away.

 

*

 

Gendry thanked the Seven for having bought that bag of frozen fries the last time he had gone to the supermarket.

 

While he waited for the large batch of fries to finish cooking, he kept glacing at the drunk girl sitting with her arms crossed at his small kitchen table.

 

She was young and very pretty. The scowl on her face, her red cheeks and her silent brooding only helped to make her look more beautiful. She was dressed nicely, too. He didn't know much about fashion, but her clothes looked fancy and expensive to him.

 

He turned off the stove and placed the fries over a large napkin to remove the excess oil. He then put them on a bowl and placed it over the table, in front of her.

 

"Dig in," he told her, smiling.

 

She looked up at him and then looked at the fries and started sobbing.

 

"What- Why are you crying?" He was so confused.

 

"Why are you so mean?"

 

"What?"

 

"Fries without ketchup? What kind of monster are you?!"

 

He burst into laughter, he couldn't help it.

 

"And now you're laughing! How can you be so cruel?!"

 

"I'm sorry, m'lady," he apologized, still laughing, "let me get the ketchup."

 

"Fries without ketchup," she muttered, "it's like a Lannister without gold."

 

Gendry opened the fridge, looking for the bottle of ketchup, but found nothing.

 

"It's like a Baratheon without black hair," she continued.

 

He went to check inside his small pantry, hoping to find a forgotten bottle there, but again, nothing.

 

"Like an Arryn without honor."

 

"Okay, okay, I get it, fries don't make sense without ketchup."

 

"Exactly," she said, drying her tears, "now where is the ketchup?"

 

He sighed. "There's no ketchup."

 

She gasped and her eyes started to get watery again.

 

"Please, don't cry." Gendry kneeled by her side and patted her hand softly. "We are going to make these fries taste good, trust me," he assured her.

 

She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. "I trust you," she said, taking his hand in hers.

 

Gendry smiled. He knew she was drunk and that she probably didn't mean anything she was saying, but for some reason, it felt nice to hear her say she trusted him. "Do you like your fries with mayo?"

 

"Fries with mayo?" She asked him, lifting her head so she could see his face, looking very much offended, "what kind of person do you think I am? My parents educated me well!"

 

He chuckled. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to offend you," he stood up and rubbed his neck, "look, it's too late to go to the store and the fries are getting cold, so you better-" and then he remembered. He opened the drawer where he kept the cutlery and thanked his mother for teaching him not to waste food. "Ta-da!" He turned around, holding a bunch of packets of ketchup on his hand.

 

The girl smiled the prettiest smile he had ever seen before running straight into his arms.

 

"Thank you, thank you, thank you," she repeated happily, holding him tight. She gave him a peck on the cheek, took the packets from his hand and went back to the table, leaving him in the middle of the kitchen, feeling like an clumsy teenager who had just been kissed for the first time.

 

He shook his head, pushing the foolish thoughts out of his mind. He sat by her side and watched her eat, feeling content. The way she carefully dipped each fry on the ketchup before eating them put a smile on his face.

 

Gendry couldn't help but wonder if he was drunk, too.

 

*

 

Her eyes were almost closed by the time she had finished eating.

 

He had tried to ask her about her personal information, but she had refused to tell him anything other than her name.

 

_Arya._

 

Even her name was pretty.

 

He tried to wake her up a couple of times, but the alcohol had done its job and had knocked her out completely. He was worried about her and her family, if she had one. She was lucky she had ended up in his apartment and not somewhere else, with someone who could have taken advantage of her.

 

He picked her up in his arms and carried her towards his bedroom. He knew the couch was large enough for her to rest comfortably, but Gendry swore he could see the disapproving face of his beloved mother as soon as he thought about letting her sleep there.

 

Gendry laid her down gently on the bed and went to his closet to get a blanket. He tucked it carefully around her and sat by her side.

 

"Sleep well, Arya."

 

She opened her eyes a little and smiled, and before he could smile back at her, she grabbed him by his shirt and pulled him down to kiss him full on the lips. "Thank you for the fries," she told him, before falling asleep again.

 

"You're welcome," he whispered after a while.

 

Gendry went back to the living room thinking how many batches of fries he would have to cook to make her fall in love with him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt: "It’s 2am and I’m drunk and I need some goddamn french fries right now so open your fucking door" AU.


	18. The Ghost of High Heart Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another translation because the creative part of my brain has been feeling too lazy to write something new.
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

 

"Hurry up, grandpa!" Arya exclaimed, jumping excitedly in front of the ticket booth, "You're too slow!"

 

"I'm not slow," Ned said, breathing heavily, once he reached her side, "you're just too fast."

 

She grinned, happy to accept the compliment. Not many boys like to admit that girls can be faster than they are. That was the reason she enjoyed Ned's company, he was honest and fair, even if he was a bit too proper and well behaved for her taste.

 

"Well, you have to learn to be fast when you are constantly getting into trouble," she told him, shrugging, "it's part of the job."

 

"What job?"

 

"I don't know, being the wild child of the family?"

 

Ned laughed, "I guess you're right."

 

"C'mon, let's get the tickets," she said, pulling on his t-shirt, "we have to try all the rides before my brother comes to pick us up."

 

*

 

Arya was having so much fun, she thought she was going to puke from the excitement.

 

The weather was cool and windy, just the way she liked it, the rides were tall and thrilling and made her heart beat ten times faster, and Ned was proving to be the perfect partner.

 

Before she met and became friends with Ned at school, Arya had been afraid she would have to end her yearly ritual of going to Winter Town's Autumn fair or, worse, that she would have to go on her own.

 

Three years ago, her older brothers had decided they were too old to go to the fair. Her baby brother Rickon was still too short for many of the rides, her sister Sansa had never been an option (especially not now that she was dating Joffrey the Prick), and since the accident, her sweet brother Bran hadn't been able to enjoy the fair like he used to. His absence hurt Arya the most, they had always been close and the best partners in crime. She wished she could give her brother a new pair of legs . . . or wings, so he could fly and be as free as he used to be.

 

And last but not least were her best friends, Mycah and Hot Pie. The first was too busy helping his dad now that they had been able to open their own butcher shop, and the latter was always too scared and too stuffed with his mom's pastries to go in any of the rides. Arya had learned that lesson the hard way.

 

So she had to thank the old gods and the new for putting Ned on her way.

 

*

 

The Haunted House was the last place they went to before their stomachs started to demand some food.

 

While Ned went to buy something to eat, Arya had the task of finding an empty table, which was proving to be very difficult since the fair was packed.

 

Arya was looking around the food court when she spotted a small tent that was practically hidden among the stands and different attrations. She looked at it carefully, no one was trying to get in and it seemed like it was abandoned.

 

She moved closer to the tent and noticed the small wooden sign hanging above the entrance.

 

The sign had the legend "Ghost of High Heart" carved in it.

 

 _Ghost of High Heart? That makes no sense,_ she considered. Arya bit her lip, feeling curious. _Ghosts don't scare me, I should take a look._

 

Arya opened carefully the tent flap, poking her head inside. "Hello," she murmured softly, "is anyone here?" She asked, raising her voice a little. She stepped inside, taking a quick look around.

 

The interior was decorated with candles of different shapes and sizes, it smelled like cinnamon and clove, and the only furniture was a small table surrounded by several colorful carpets and pillows, but apart from that the place was empty... and very spacious. Arya thought it was curious how big the tent actually was considering it looked pretty small from outside. _Looks are deceiving,_ she thought. "Hello!" She tried again.

 

"Sit down, child."

 

When someone took her hand, Arya almost jumped out of her skin.

 

"I'm sorry, did I scare you?" An old woman asked her.

 

"N-No," she stuttered. _Of course you did! I almost shat my pants!_

 

The woman was a tiny thing, her back was curved and she walked with the aid of a cane, the handle of it was shaped like a dragon's head.

 

"I'm sorry I made you wait so long, my hearing is not very good these days, but sit, sit" she asked her insistently, pointing at one of the carpets. "So, what do you wish to know?"

 

"Uh . . . I don't know," she hesitated, the old woman made her feel nervous for some reason, "if I must be honest, I'm not sure I know what you do."

 

"Oh," she smiled and coughed at the same time, "I can see and predict the future," she told her confidently, as it if was the most normal and easiest thing to do.

 

_Ah, I see, this woman believes she has super powers._

 

"Really? Can you see it all? Know it all?"

 

"No one can see and know it all, child. Only the gods are capable of that. I can only share what they allow me to."

 

 _How convenient._ "And how do you do it? Using a crystall ball? Poker cards? Coffee beans?" She asked, sounding like a smartass.

 

The elderly woman grinned. "No, all I have to do is hold your hands. Tell me, what do you wish to know about?"

 

Arya bit her lip. Knowing too much about one's future is never a good thing, all books and movies teach you that. _What should I ask? When will I die? No, no, I would go crazy. I know! I should ask her about Jon's mother . . . but that's something from the past, not the future. Oh, stop it, ask her about anything, she will only tell you lies anyway,_ she said to herself. "I wish to know about everything, well, almost everything. I don't want to know about my own death or terrible things that can't be fixed or prevented, is that alright?"

 

"I think it's a smart choice."

 

The fortune teller took Arya's hands in hers and closed her eyes. Five long and uncomfortable minutes of silence passed before she uttered a word again. The woman let go of her hands and smiled at her.

 

Her smile sent a shiver down her spine.

 

"Your distant future will be filled with happiness and laughter, on the contrary, your near future will be filled with tears."

 

Arya listened to her in silence and with a curious expression on her face, trying not to take her words seriously.

 

"You will fall in love twice. Your first love will be short lived and he will break your heart, but your second love," she sighed, "that will be the love of your life. He will make you laugh, cry, scream, fly . . ."

 

_Bullshit! I'll never fall in love!_

 

". . . he will fill your body and heal your wounds. You will live the happiest and most thriving years of your life by his side."

 

"And could you tell me how does the love of my life look like? You know, so I won't miss him if he walks in front of me."

 

The woman smiled again. "Oh, he's strong like a bull and he has a proud walk, like that of a stag. He will cover you in yellow and will protect you with his strong arms, they will hammer the danger away from you."

 

Arya narrowed her eyes. "That will help, that's very useful," she remarked sarcastically, the woman didn't seem to notice.

 

"You will give him three children . . . " she continued.

 

_Children? Three children? No way in the Seven Hells!_

 

". . . and even though he will wish to have as many children as possible, he will respect your choice. The little ones will have big blue eyes and their heads will be covered in black."

 

_How stupid!_

 

"You will travel the world and will be tempted to forget your roots, your name, but the wolf that lives inside you will always remind you who you are and bring you back to your path . . . "

 

That caught her attention. A couple of years before, while doing some research for a school work, Arya had to research about her ancestors. One of the many things she discovered was that, many years before, the Starks had used a direwolf as the family sigil. It had to be a coincidence, it must be a mere coincidence, right? The girl decided in that moment that she didn't wish to hear anything else. "I think that's enough," she stood up, "it's getting late and my friend is waiting for me."

 

"Are you sure you don't wish to know more?"

 

She nodded, "I have to go, how much I owe you?"

 

"I don't have a fixed price, I'll accept your good will."

 

Arya took a couple of bills out of her pocket and put them in the woman's wrinkly hand.

 

"Thank you, this was really entertaining."

 

"Oh, but this is not entertainment, it is only the truth."

 

Arya gulped heavily. "It doesn't matter, I had fun, good bye!" she turned around, not waiting for a reply, and walked towards the opening.

 

"Good bye, _Arya Stark._ "

 

That froze her in place for a couple of seconds. She hurried to get out of the tent and didn't look back. And she never asked herself how the woman knew her name.

 

"Arya!"

 

"Edric!"

 

"What happened? Where were you? I thought you had left without me."

 

"No way, I just got a bit distracted."

 

"Are you alright? You look a bit agitated."

 

"I'm fine," she assured him, "I'm just starving!"

 

"I can fix that, here," he smiled and handed her a hot dog, a bag of chips, and an extra large soda. "Ready to have dinner?"

 

"Ready."

 

While they ate, Arya could not stop thinking about what the old lady had said.

 

*

 

"That's my brother, c'mon!"

 

Arya and Ned walked hurriedly towards Jon's old sports car, he was standing with his arms crossed, resting his back against the door. He had spent months fixing it with the help of one of his good friends and he was happy to show off his baby.

 

"How was the fair? Did you have fun?" Jon asked them as they got closer.

 

"Yes, it was amazing!" Arya replied, Edric only nodded.

 

"Jump in," he told them, "you will tell us on the way."

 

"Tell _us_?" Arya asked with curiosity.

 

"Oh yeah, I forgot, I'm giving my friend Gendry a ride home, do you mind?"

 

Arya shrugged. "It's your friend and your car, we have no voice in the matter."

 

"How dramatic," he shook his head, "how can you be friends with my sister?"

 

They got inside the car. Gendry was sitting on the passenger's side.

 

"She's a lot of fun," Edric finally said, before closing the door.

 

*

 

Jon left Edric at home first. When they arrived at Gendry's, Arya got out of the car to sit at the front and noticed the big stag that adorned the front gates of his home.

 

She also noticed that her bother's friend had a very . . . _interesting_ face.

 

Gendry said goodbye to both and disappeared behind the door.

 

"What's with the huge stag?" She asked her brother once the car started moving.

 

"I don't know," he said, scratching his head, "I think it's his family's sigil or some shit like that."

 

"Oh, I see."

 

Jon laughed.

 

"What are you laughing at?"

 

"Nothing, it's just that Gendry always says that as soon as he gets the house, he will get rid of the stag and put a bull in its place, that's his nickname."

 

Arya's eyes went wide, "Bull?"

 

" _The bull_ , yes," he said, "he's the captain of the school's wrestling team, he's pretty damn strong, even his arms got a nickname you know," he smiled.

 

"What's the nickname?" She was afraid of the answer.

 

"The hammers," he laughed.

 

Arya's jaw almost dropped to the floor, she just couldn't believe it.

 

 _It's a coincidence, nothing but a coincidence,_ she said to herself, and she kept repeating it all the way back home.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you have some Autumn/Halloween prompts saved or bookmarked somewhere in your computer, I'll be thankful if you share the links with me.


	19. A pretty she-wolf

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't blame me, blame the OTP.

 

Gendry was rushing to get home, it was starting to rain and he didn't have an umbrella or a coat with him. Plus, it was getting late and he had the feeling that someone had been following him for the last five or six blocks.

 

When he reached a well lit area in front of a small coffee shop, he stopped and turned to look behind him, trying to see if his suspicions were real or if his mind was just playing tricks on him.

 

There were some people walking up and down the street, but none were close to him, so Gendry shook his head and continued walking hurriedly towards home.

 

However, the sensation of being followed didn't leave him and only got worse as he got closer to his building. He was too tired and hungry and fed up to deal with a potential stalker or robber, but he knew he had no option but to face the enemy.

 

 _All those years of experience living in Flea Bottom will have to help me now,_ he thought.

 

He felt the hairs at the nape of his neck stand on end and his pulse quickened as he turned around.

 

_Fuck._

 

But the street was empty.

 

Gendry frowned, he could swear someone had been following him. He looked left and right, paying close attention to every potential hiding spot someone could use, but again, nothing.

 

"I need to sleep," he muttered.

 

He was ready to go inside when he heard a soft whining sound. Gendry looked down, and there, behind the back tire of a truck, was dog looking at him.

 

Gendry smiled, feeling like an idiot. He moved slowly to avoid scaring the animal off and kneeled down in front of it.

 

"Hey, puppy," he said, scratching the top of the dog's nose, "were you the one following me?"

 

The dog whined in reponse.

 

"You have to go home, buddy, the rain is going to get worse and you are already wet."

 

The animal huffed and gave Gendry the most curious look.

 

"Yeah, I guess I'm wet too," he told the animal, looking at his damped clothes. Gendry scratched the dog behind its ears and stood up. "I have to go and you better run back home, too, okay?"

 

The dog whined and followed him.

 

"No, you have to go home," Gendry pointed towards the street, "c'mon, go!"

 

The dog gave him the puppy eyes, moving closer to him.

 

Gendry sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'm sorry, buddy, I wish I could keep you, really, but this place doesn't allow pets and if they kick me out then there's gonna be two of us looking for a place to live." _I can't believe I just apologized to a dog, I really need to sleep._

 

The dog whined again and licked Gendry's hand a couple of times.

 

"Gods, you are not going to make this any easier, arent you?"

 

The dog tilted its head and continued to look at him.

 

The rain was starting to get worse and Gendry knew he had to make a choice.

 

"Okay," he sighed, "I guess I'll risk myself for you, c'mon!"

 

 

He walked towards the back of the building, the dog following him close behind. Gendry opened the back door, which lead to another set of stairs that almost no one used, and wished for the best.

 

The dog moved in front of him and ran up the stairs. When Gendry finally reached his floor, he was surprised to find the dog standing calmly and waiting for him outside of his apartment.

 

"You are very smart, aren't you?" He asked the animal before opening the door.

 

Gendry watched the dog closely as it sniffed its way around the living the room. He patted its head a few times and made his way towards the kitchen.

 

"Are you hungry? I don't have any dog food, but I think I have something you could eat," he said as he opened the fridge. "Do you like pork and beans?" He looked behind him and found the dog sitting at the entrance of the kitchen, looking very serious, almost regal. Gendry smiled, "Too ordinary for you?"

 

He put some leftovers in a plastic plate and filled with water one of the many bowls his mother had sent him with food since he had moved to his own place. He placed the food and the water on the floor and waited. The dog gulped down the water quickly, but did not touch the food.

 

Gendry didn't think much of it and went to take a shower.

 

*

 

When he got out of the bathroom, he found the dog resting lazily on his bed.

 

"Comfortable?"

 

The dog yawned and rested its head on its front paws.

 

Gendry chuckled, "I'll take that as a yes."

 

He grabbed a pair of pajama bottoms out of the dresser drawer and put them on, it was getting a bit too cold for him to sleep only in his underwear . . . or naked.

 

"I'll take you to Tobho's tomorrow, I'm sure he'll be happy to have you, his place it's pretty spacious and needs a big guard dog like you to keep it safe."

 

The dog lifted its head up.

 

"Don't worry, he'll take good care of you."

 

The dog sat on the bed and started to bark.

 

"Shhh!" Gendry placed his index finger in front of his lips, as if the dog could understand the gesture. "Calm down, buddy, or they'll kick us out!" He exclaimed, trying to keep his voice down.

 

The dog bared its teeth and started growling at him.

 

Gendry felt a shiver ran down his spine. "It's okay, buddy, it's okay, I won't take you to Tobho, I'll keep you with me, okay?" He reached out his hand slowly and started to rub the dog's neck with the back of his fingers. "Good dog."

 

He sat on the bed and began rubbing the dog's belly and that calmed the animal down.

 

"You like this, don't you?" He continued to move his hand up and down its belly. "I wish I had someone who could rub my stomach, too."

 

The dog moved to rest on its back and Gendry realized he had been wrong.

 

"Oh, you are a girl! He smiled. "Sorry, I hadn't noticed."

 

The dog huffed and turned its head to the other side.

 

"You're a very pretty dog and very moody, too," he told her.

 

The animal was indeed very beautiful. She was big and strong and her hair was thick and in different shades of grey. Her eyes had a pretty color as well.

 

"You must be mixed since you look so much like a wolf."

 

The dog perked up her ears and sat down on the bed, barking once.

 

"Is that what you are? A pretty she-wolf?"

 

The dog moved closer to Gendry and placed her front paws on his lap.

 

"Oh, you like compliments, don't you?"

 

The dog let out a soft whine and nuzzled her nose against his face.

 

Gendry laughed and continued scratching her sides, blabbling sweet nothings to the animal.

 

"Yes, you're a pretty girl," he said, "a beautiful she-wolf."

 

The dog licked his cheek a couple of times and moved off his lap. She sat on the bed and stared at him with a look that Gendry could only desribe as melancholic.

 

"What is it, girl?"

 

The dog whined again.

 

Gendry smiled and gave her ears a scratch. "Don't worry, I'll take care of you," he assured the animal, "I'll be your family from now on, okay?" he said, and placed a kiss on the side of her nose.

 

All of a sudden, a nearly blinding ray of light, accompanied by the weirdest howl-like sound, illuminated the room, causing Gendry to fall off the bed.

 

When he was able to focus his eyes again, he was shocked to find a naked girl sitting on his bed, looking down at him with a smile on her face.

 

"I was right," she happily said, "I knew it was you!" she exclaimed and jumped on him, pressing her naked body against his.

 

His brain was too surprised and stupid to think properly, but his hands were for sure smart enough to wrap themselves around her bare torso.

 

"W-Wha . . . What?" He finally managed to mumble, and he wanted to punch himself for sounding like a complete moron.

 

"I finally found you," she told him, looking very content, "my mate," she whispered softly and gave him the prettiest smile before she leaned down to press her lips against his.

 

Gendry wasn't sure if he had gone crazy, if he was dreaming or if this was all part of his imagination, but he did not care, not when her lips felt so real.

 

She was a very good kisser and he couldn't stop himself from moaning and wrapping his arms even tighter around her as he felt her body all warm and soft moving against his. The feeling of her bare breasts rubbing on his naked chest was good enough to send a wave of heat and pleasure straight to his groin.

 

Her hands and fingers were busy craddling his face, running through his shaggy black hair, caressing his neck and shoulders, and he was dying to do the same. His hands were eager to touch and stroke every inch of her body, but he knew he couldn't, _shouldn't_ , not before he had a better understanding of what was happening and who she was.

 

But then she broke their kiss, speaking before he could voice out his concerns.

 

"I was getting tired of looking for you," she nuzzled her nose against his neck lovingly, "I had been trapped in my wolf form for far too long."

 

Gendry felt cold all of a sudden.

 

 _Gods no, please don't do this to me, she can't be crazy._ "What?"

 

She raised her head to look at him and frowned. "Is that all you can say now? You were speaking full sentences before."

 

Wolf form or not, her fiery temper remained the same.

 

"Are you stupid or something? Or did you hit your head when you fell off the bed?" She asked him.

 

He closed his eyes and slapped his hand against his forehead. "I'm not stupid, don't worry, I think I just need to sleep."

 

"Uh-uh, no way," she said, pushing herself off of him.

 

He opened his eyes, missing the warmth of her body almost immediately, and found her standing before him in all her glorious nakedness, looking at him hungrily with the most beautiful grey eyes he had ever seen.

 

That imagine of her would remain with him forever.

 

_If she's crazy, then I'm crazy as well._

 

He stood up quickly and moved close to her, but didn't touch her.

 

"What's your name?"

 

"Arya."

 

" _Arya,_ " he repeated.

 

She smiled and cut the distance between them, placing her arms around him.

 

"You better take these off," she told him, pulling on the elastic band of his pajama bottoms, "you won't be needing them tonight."

 

He chuckled and pulled them off in one quick movement. When he looked at her again, he found her biting her lower lip anxiously.

 

"Scared?"

 

"No, not scared," she shook her head and wrapped her hand around his cock, rubbing him softly, "just excited."

 

He groaned and pushed his hips forward, too aroused to talk.

 

"Wolves mate for life, you know?" She whispered softly, looking directly at his eyes.

 

"I'm not a wolf," he managed to say, not caring about how stupid it sounded, and pulled her closer to him.

 

"I know, but I can make a wolf out of you, if you want," she told him, sounding unsure for the first time, "all you need is a bit of practice."

 

Gendry looked at her and smiled. "Then teach me your ways, she-wolf, I'll be happy to learn."

 

She smiled back at him and push him down on the bed.

 

*

 

That night the moon shone brighter against the dark sky and the air was filled with the howling of wolves.

 


	20. Autumn Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A series of short one-shots/ficlets/vignettes (Idk what to call them anymore) based on some autumn word prompts. They all belong to the same AU.
> 
> Excuse the mistakes and enjoy if you can.

 

_**Candy/Candy corn** _

 

"Look what we have here, Hot Pie," Lommy sneered, "it's Lumpyhead dressed like an ugly Chihuahua," he said with a mocking tone.

 

Arya frowned. "I'm not a Chihuahua, I'm a wolf!"

 

"Well, Chihuahua or not, you're still ugly," Lommy said.

 

"Yeah, and you are still stupid. What are you even wearing? Are you supposed to be Shrek?"

 

"Are you blind? I'm Hulk," he said, looking offended.

 

"Yeah? Well you look like Shrek to me. And who are you," she asked the other boy, "the Tin Man?"

 

"I'm a knight!"

 

Arya laughed. "Any idiot can wear armor, I guess"

 

"Whatever," Lommy interrupted, "you better give us your candy," he demanded.

 

"Yeah, give it to us or we're gonna put another lump on your ugly head."

 

"I want to see you try, you Fat Pie!"

 

Arya clutched her candy bag tightly and got ready to fight. Hot Pie and Lommy launched themselves against her, but before they could even get close, a big figure appeared in front of her, blocking their way.

 

"Always picking on the little ones," a very tall boy said, sounding furious, "lay a finger on her and I will break your hands, now fuck off!" He yelled and the other boys vanished in less than a second.

 

"Are you okay?" He asked, facing her for the first time.

 

Arya blinked a few of times before nodding. She was usually accused of being a chatterbox, but right at that moment, the words escaped her. It was the first time it happened to her.

 

"Good," he smiled.

 

"Do you know Lommy and Hot Pie?" She eventually managed to say.

 

"Yeah, we live in the same neighborhood."

 

"You are from Flea Bottom?" Her voice had a very noticeable tone of surprise.

 

The boy lowered his gaze, looking a bit shy, and Arya felt like an idiot.

 

"Yeah."

 

Arya knew a lot of kids from the poorest areas of the city usually went to the richer neighborhoods, like hers, to ask for candy on Halloween, only this boy had no candy bag with him and he wasn't even wearing a costume.

 

She took one packet of candy corn out of her bag and put it inside her pocket. _For Jon,_ she thought. "Here," she said, handing him the rest of her candy, "Happy Halloween!" she exclaimed, running away from him before he could refuse her.

 

"Wait! What's your name?"

 

"Arry," she told him, stopping for a moment.

 

"I'm Gendry," he told her.

 

"See you soon, Gendry!"

 

The boy waved his hand at her, smiling, and even though Arya had just lost almost all her Halloween candy, she couldn't help but smile back.

 

 

**_Leaf pile_ **

 

"Stop calling me that!"

 

Arya kicked Gendry hard before pushing him down into the big pile of leaves he had just finished gathering.

 

He laughed, not caring one bit about having to sweep all the leaves again. "First you lie to me and then you kick me, what kind of lady are you?"

 

"The bad kind," she huffed, before letting herself fall by his side, making a bigger mess.

 

"What should I call you now? Arry? M'lady?"

 

"Arya," she said, "just Arya."

 

"Okay," he turned on his side, looking down at her, "you'll be _just Arya_ from now on."

 

"Stupid," she said, biting back a smile. When she met his eyes, however, she couldn't stop herself from blushing. His face was close to hers and his lips looked good enough to bite. Worse of all, he was cutting the distance between them with each passing second. Arya took a deep breath, trying to calm her heart beats and getting ready to receive her very first kiss.

 

Gendry was stupid, but she could have done a lot worse.

 

 _At least I'll get my first kiss before Sansa,_ she considered happily.

 

However, all she got was bunch of leaves thrown at her face.

 

"You stupid bull!" She yelled, running after him, "I'll make you pay for that!"

 

 

_**Scarecrow** _

 

Things at home were getting a bit difficult for Gendry and his foster parents. It was not a lack of love or family warmth what was causing them trouble, but a severe reduction in their income.

 

His father's business was getting less and less clients each day and his mother could not longer work due to her illness, so it was just a matter of time before the lack of money became an issue for them.

 

Gendry knew his parents had tried really hard to hide their economic problems from him, but despite what Arya said about his stupidity, he soon noticed their troubled looks and worried whispers after dinner. And so, acting against their wishes and behind their backs, he decided to help them as best as he could to bring some extra cash home. It was the least he could do.

 

And that's how he ended up doing all sorts of part time jobs and running errands.

 

He was big and strong for his age, but at only seventeen years of age, his options for a job were not that great.

 

Some jobs were easy and even fun, like helping Hot Pie's mother to deliver her pies around the neighborhood or working as a bellboy during the weekends at the Crossroads Inn. Other jobs were hard, but very decently paid. And then there were the awful jobs, the ones that didn't pay much and made him feel like an idiot.

 

Today, he was doing one of those jobs.

 

He was dressed in a very itchy scarecrow costume, handing fliers at the entrance of a very busy and very popular supermarket, and getting paid just five golden dragons an hour.

 

 _If only they were still made out of gold_ , he thought sadly.

 

He hoped none of his friends would see him dressed like this, so he prayed they would stay away from the supermarket. He wasn't embarrased about having to work, but he really felt like an idiot wearing a wig made out of straw and having two fake crows on top of his head and shoulder.

 

The worst was he was actually disappointed he was too big and tall to wear the girl scarecrow costume. He really needed all the extra money he could get.

 

He sighed and continued handing the fliers with very little motivation.

 

By the time his shift ended, he noticed a girl wearing the other scarecrow costume. She waved at him and he waved back, smiling a little, feeling sorry for her.

 

As she walked closer to him, however, his sorriness was quickly replaced by surprise and a bit of anger.

 

"Arya? What the hell are you doing here?!"

 

"Working, duh!" She told him, rolling her eyes at him.

 

"Yeah right, why would you need to work?"

 

 _You are rich,_ he almost said out loud.

 

She shrugged. "I need to save money."

 

"For what?"

 

"A new switchblade," she said, picking at the straw peeking out of her sleeve, not meeting his eyes, "my parents would never give me the money to buy one, so I have to earn the money on my own."

 

"Why would you need a new one? What did you do with Needle?" He asked her, narrowing his eyes, doubting her motive.

 

"I've lost it."

 

And that's when Gendry knew for sure that she was lying. Needle was her most precious treasure, her most beloved possession. The last thing her favorite brother gave her before he left. She would die before losing her Needle.

 

"Arya, do you think I'm as stupid as the rest? That you can lie to me so easily?" he told her seriously, "be honest, what are you doing here?"

 

She looked everywhere but at him.

 

"Arya, look at me."

 

She bit her lip once before meeting his eyes. "I want to help you," she finally said.

 

"Help me?"

 

"Yes, stupid," she said, sounding a bit exasperated, "I want to help you to get more money so you won't have to work too hard and drive yourself to the point of exhaustion," she spoke so fast, Gendry could barely understand what she was saying, "you look so tired all the time, Hot Pie told me you have been missing classes and your mom told me she's worried about you. I want to help you, just like you helped me when Jon left."

 

Gendry could swear her eyes got a bit misty by the end of her rant and, for some stupid reason, that made him feel special, happy even.

 

He moved closer to her and took her hand in his. "Thank you, Arry, this means a lot to me," he assured her, holding her hand a bit tighter. "But you don't have to do this, really, I'm doing well enough. And I promise you I won't be skipping classes anymore."

 

"And you have to promise me you will try to sleep and rest as much as possible."

 

"Yes, I promise."

 

"And promise me that you will talk to your parents about his."

 

" _Arry._ "

 

"Promise me!" She exclaimed, punching his arm with her small yet powerful fists.

 

"Ow! Okay, okay, I promise!"

 

"Good," she said, looking satisfied.

 

"Arya?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"You make a very cute scarecrow."

 

"Shut up!"

 

 

**_Mittens_ **

 

The very loud and insisting knocking on the door could only mean trouble. Gendry ran out of his room, worried something had happened to his parents, and hoped for the best.

 

He quickly opened the door and was met with a small box shoved at his chest.

 

"This is for you, bye!"

 

As soon as the last word left her mouth, Arya ran away. He barely had a second to catch a glimpse of her face.

 

"Bye," Gendry half smiled, totally confused.

 

He sat on the couch, putting the small box on his lap, and took a close look at it. It was just a plain, white box, but still, he was scared of what could be inside. One could never be sure with Arya, she was full of mischief and surprises.

 

He shook the box a little and then put it close to his ear. It all seemed normal, so he finally decided to open it.

 

The first thing he found was a small piece of paper folded in half, there was something wrapped in tissue paper under it, but he decided to leave that for later, keeping his curiousity under control.

 

He took the small note and started to read Arya's very distinctive handwriting.

 

_Dear Stupid,_

 

_Remember those lessons my dear mother forced me to attend? Well, this is the fruit of my efforts after six very long and very tedious months. I know they are ugly, but I hope you like them. It's totally fine if you never wear them. And you don't have to thank me, in fact, I'll be grateful if you never talk to me about this._

 

_Your best and superior friend,_

 

_Arya._

 

_PS. If you make fun of me, I'll kill you._

 

Gendry laughed, it wouldn't be a note from Arya without, at least, one death threat.

 

He put the note aside and, very carefully and slowly, removed the black cat sticker that kept the tissue paper in place. What he found put a smile on his face.

 

It was a pair of yellow mittens with a bullhead shape knit on them. The knitting was crooked in some parts and one bullhead was bigger than the other, but he did not mind. He quickly put on the mittens only to find that they did not fit him well, but he could not care less. All that mattered was that Arya had made them and that she had made them for him.

 

The warmth feeling that he felt inside his chest stayed with him for the rest of the day.

 

 

**_Pumpkin spice_ **

 

When Arya got Gendry's text message asking her if she could come to the hospital, she did not have to think twice.

 

She grabbed her sweater and some money and ran out of the house, not caring if her mother would punish her for leaving in the middle of their discussion.

 

They were always fighting and getting into heated arguments these days and it was always Arya's fault (at least that was what her mother said), so she thought it would not make any difference if she postponed the discussion for later. Besides, she knew she would be punished anyway.

 

Arya got to the hospital in less than fifteen minutes and rushed to find Gendry in the ER waiting room.

 

She slowed down a little once she got inside and she quickly found Gendry standing very stiffly, with a worried frown on his face and looking at the floor.

 

"Gendry!" She exclaimed, trying to keep her voice low.

 

He looked up at the sound of her voice and his expression went from worried to relieved in a second.

 

Arya did not miss the change on his face and smiled inwardly, feeling like a idiot. Perhaps her mother was right after all, only a selfish person could find something to be happy about in a moment like this.

 

"Arya," he whispered softly, giving her a smile that did not reach his eyes.

 

She moved to stand close to him, but Gendry had a different plan. He pulled her into his chest as soon as his hands could get a hold of her, hugging her tight.

 

Arya wrapped her arms around him as best as she could, hoping it would make him feel better, wishing he could understand how much she cared. Arya soon felt the slight tremors that shook his body and she quickly tightened her hold on him. They remained quiet, just holding each other for a moment until the silence was too much for her.

 

"You smell like pumpkin spice," she murmured against his chest.

 

She couldn't see, but she did feel how his lips curved close to her forehead.

 

"Mom was making pumpkin pies before . . . I guess my clothes caught the scent."

 

Arya smiled. Mrs. Mott's pumpkin pie was the best she had ever tasted. "How is she?" She asked, pulling herself away from him a little, wanting to see his face.

 

"I don't know, dad is talking to the doctor right now."

 

"She's going to be fine, Gendry. She's tougher and more stubborn than all of us together."

 

"I used to think the same about my mother and then . . ."

 

The rest was left unsaid, but Arya knew what he meant. The expression of hurt and sadness that appeared on his face almost made her cry, so before she could act like a stupid little girl, she stood on her tip toes and put her arms around his neck, pulling him down and closer to her.

 

"She will get better, I promise," she assured him, unsure if she had said the right thing.

 

Gendry buried his face in the curve of her neck. "Thank you for coming," he muttered, his words and breath warm against her skin.

 

"You have nothing to thank me for, stupid. We are friends."

 

"Best friends."

 

"The very best."

 

He let out a soft laugh and Arya couldn't stop herself from wishing they could be something else.

 

 

 

[Here](http://writing-prompts-list.tumblr.com/post/96738646894/15-days-of-writing-pt-6-fall-months) is the list of prompts in case you want to write your own fics or if you just want to know what's coming next.


	21. Autumn Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is way too long, I apologize. -_-

 

_**Hot Cocoa** _

 

"Mom, I'm home!"

 

"Shhh!" His mother poked her head out of the kitchen door, with her index finger over her lips. "Be quiet!"

 

Gendry smiled, glad to see his mother back to her old self. He dropped his backpack on the floor and walked towards the kitchen.

 

"Why should I be quiet? Is dad asleep?"

 

His mother shook her head, stirring the contents of a large pot filled with milk, a couple of cinnamon sticks and big chunks of chocolate. Gendry grabbed a piece of leftover chocolate from the counter and started munching on it.

 

"No, it's Arya," she calmly said, "she's sleeping in your bedroom."

 

"W-Wha-?" The piece of chocolate made him cough as it got stuck in his throat. "What?"

 

"Calm down, son," she patted him lightly on the back, "don't be so dramatic."

 

"Mom, what happened? Tell me what she said!" He tried to keep his emotions under control, but couldn't, no until he knew what had happened to Arya.

 

"Okay, okay," she said, while she continued to stir the pot. "She got here around an hour ago, it looked like she had been crying."

 

"And? Why was she crying?"

 

"God, you're just like your father," she told him, shaking her head, "so desperate."

 

" _Mom._ "

 

She turned off the stove and moved to face him. "I asked her, but she wouldn't tell me. I suppose something must have happened at home. I let her go to your bedroom and when I went to check on her she was asleep." She poured some of the hot cocoa into a large mug. "Go and see if she's awake, perhaps she will tell you what happened exactly. "Here," she handed him the mug, "be careful, it's very hot."

 

"I know it's hot, mom."

 

"I can never be sure with you," she smiled.

 

"Ha ha, very funny." He kissed his mother on the cheek.

 

"Gendry."

 

"Yes?"

 

"Don't lock your door and keep your hands where I can see them."

 

"Mom!"

 

"I'm just kidding," she said, grinning mischievously at him.

 

*

 

Gendry opened the door carefully in case Arya was still sleeping, not wanting to wake her up. To his surprise, however, he found her wide awake, sitting on his bed and going through one of his old textbooks.

 

"Hey, Arry."

 

Arya looked up at him, her eyes and nose still red from crying.

 

"Hey," she said, putting the book down and offering him a tiny smile.

 

"Mom sends you this," he told her. "Be careful, it's hot."

 

"Thanks," she took the mug from him and started blowing on it.

 

Gendry sat by her side and remained quiet, letting her sip her chocolate in peace, giving her the chance to put her thoughts in order.

 

By the time she had finished the hot cocoa, her eyes had filled with tears again and Gendry's arm had found its place around her shaky shoulders. Gendry took the mug from her hands, setting it aside on his night table, and she rested her head on his shoulder.

 

"What happened, Arya?" He asked softly.

 

"It's my mother," she mumbled.

 

_Surprise, surprise._

 

"What did she tell you this time?"

 

"Not much, but enough."

 

Gendry held her closer to him and sighed deeply. "No matter what she said, she still loves you."

 

"Does she?" She sniffed.

 

"Of course she does."

 

She snorted. "That's hard to believe sometimes. She might love me, but she resents me."

 

"Why do you say that?"

 

"I heard her talk . . . I think she hates that I'm so close to Jon, but what can I do? Jon is not to blame because my father couldn't keep it in his pants, and I can't help but love Jon the most when he's the only one who wants me and accepts me the way I am," she spoke fast, her words fueled by her emotions.

 

Gendry grabbed one of her hands in his. "Don't be stupid, Jon's not the only one who wants you the way you are."

 

"Liar."

 

"I'm not," he told her seriously. "Hot Pie loves you just as much as Lommy does. My parents often tell me they wish they had a daughter like you. And I . . . well, I want you even more than Jon does."

 

Arya hid her face on his chest. "You want me?" she spoke softly, sounding almost shy.

 

He let go of her hand and placed his index finger under her chin, lifting up her face. "Of course I do."

 

Arya closed her eyes and a few tears rolled down her cheeks.

 

"Look at me, Arry," he asked her and she did.

 

He smiled at her and leaned his face close to hers until their foreheads touched, then he caressed her nose with his, making her smile.

 

"Gendry, I have to tell you something, I-"

 

Her words were cut short by a knock on the door.

 

"May I come in?" His mother asked.

 

They put a bit of distance between them, but Gendry kept his arm around her.

 

"Arya, darling, there's someone looking for you."

 

Arya frowned. "Who?"

 

"Your mother," she informed her, giving her a sympathetic smile, "come out when you are ready," she added before closing the door again.

 

Arya sighed deeply and rubbed her face. "Well, it was a pleasure to meet you Gendry."

 

He let out a chuckle. "Don't be silly," he said, giving her temple a kiss and putting a blush on her cheeks, "everything is gonna be alright."

 

 

**_Hayride_ **

 

"Hey Hot Pie!" Arya greeted his friend with a big grin, fluttering her lashes at him.

 

"Oh god, stop Arya!" Hot Pie exclaimed, covering his eyes, "that creepy face of yours gives me nightmares every time!"

 

"Oh, shut up, my face is beautiful!"

 

He opened his eyes only to find Arya staring at him with the same stupid look on her face.

 

"You have the worst 'can you feed me pies for free' expression I have ever seen, it's even worse than Gendry's."

 

Arya put her hand on her chest, "How dare you?"

 

Hot Pie shook his head and handed her a small, pretty looking tart with different berries on top. "Here, try this, it's mom's latest invention."

 

Arya took a bite and went to dessert heaven. "God, this is so fucking good!"

 

"Mom will be happy to hear that, you are her favorite taste tester."

 

She smiled giving him a thums up. "Arya approved," she mumbled, still savoring the tart.

 

Arya looked around the place while Hot Pie organized stuff here and there. The first thing that caught her attention was the straw hat behind the counter, she thought it was curious, but didn't think much of it, however, when she noticed that Hot Pie was wearing farmer boots and a checkered shirt, she knew something was going on.

 

"Why are you dressed like that?"

 

"Like what?"

 

"Like a farmer, is your mother planning to her expand her business into farming?" She teased.

 

"Very funny, but no."

 

"So? Why are you wearing that?"

 

"I guess I'll have to tell you," he sighed, "you're gonna find out eventually anyway."

 

"Exactly."

 

"I'm going to Harvest Hall for a hayride."

 

"You what?"

 

"I'm going to a hayride, you know, riding a haywagon for-"

 

"I know what hayride is, stupid," she laughed. "Oh boy, I can't wait to tell Lommy about this!"

 

He shrugged. "You don't have to, he's going too."

 

"What? I can't believe it. What's so special about this hayride, is there gonna be free alcohol or what?"

 

"Nope, somethin' better," he said, wiggling his eyebrows, "lots and lots of sexy and single ladies, they say the girls from the Selmy family are beyond hot."

 

"Oh please, as if they would like city boys like you!"

 

"Pfft, you know nothing!"

 

"Oh this is going to be good, I can't wait to tell Gendry!"

 

"Gendry is going too."

 

"What?!"

 

"Yup, he's going. And I'm glad, perhaps he will finally get a girlfriend or a date or a makeout session at least."

 

Arya went very quiet. The idea of Gendry making out with a hot farmer girl was as silly as it was worrisome. She doubted Gendry was into farmer girls, he seemed more interested in . . . actually, she didn't know what kind of girl Gendry liked. He was reserved and Arya had never asked him about it, ignorance is bliss after all.

 

_Well, he likes me well enough. And he said I looked like a nice oak tree once, that's gotta count, right?_

 

An image of Gendry flirting and making out with two girls who resembled Daisy Duke and Elly May Clampett crossed her mind, but she quickly shook it off. _No, that would never happen, Gendry doesn't even know how to flirt._

 

 _Are you sure?_ Her traitor brain asked her.

 

"Can I go with you?"

 

"Of course not."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because it's a men trip only and there's no space left for you in the car."

 

"Bullshit! I can fit in the smallest spaces!"

 

"Whatever, you are not going."

 

"Look, Hot Pie," she said, pulling on his shirt, "if you don't take me with you, I'll fucking-"

 

"Whoa, this looks tense!" Gendry exclaimed from the entrance of the bakery, looking handsome, hot and perfect, wearing a white tank top under an unbottoned chekered shirt and a tight pair of jeans that filled Arya's mind with dirty thoughts. She wanted nothing but to tear off his clothes and rub herself against him.

 

_Ugh, he's an idiot!_

 

She let go of Hot Pie and stood up. "Have fun in your stupid hayride, I hope a pig bites you!" she said, walking out of the bakery but not before pushing Gendry against the wall.

 

Gendry looked confused. "What did you tell her, Hot Pie?"

 

"Nothing," he said, but there was a tone in his voice that meant he had done something.

 

He narrowed his eyes, not believing him. "Are you sure?"

 

"Yeah," he said with a smile, "I just did a little test on her.

 

 

**_Scarfs*_ **

 

Arya had been waiting for Gendry outside of his house, in the increasinly chilly autumn weather, for a little over twenty minutes when she finally saw him.

 

He was walking leisurely, as if he hadn't someone waiting for him, and he wasn't alone.

 

Willow Heddle was walking home with him, again.

 

_Great._

 

Arya balled her hands into two very tight fists, annoyed by his lateness and ready to scream at him.

 

However, her fighting spirit left her for a moment once she noticed they were both wearing scarfs.  _Matching_ scarfs.

 

_She probably knitted it for him._

 

Arya didn't know Willow very well, but she knew enough about her thanks to Gendry. She was around her age and worked with him at the Inn, she was actually the niece of the hotel's owner. According to Gendry, she was incredibly smart and bossy and had a very close relationship with her older sister Jeyne.

 

 _Unlike me with Sansa,_ she thought.

 

Gendry liked Willow, Arya knew, she just didn't think he liked her that much.

 

 _Are they dating now?_ she wondered.

 

Not wishing to know the truth, she walked away before they could see her. She thought she heard someone, Gendry, shouting her name, but she couldn't be sure, and she was definitely not going back to figure it out.

 

As she walked hurriedly, putting as much distance as possible between her and them, Arya's mind would not stop bothering her. She could not erase the image of Gendry and Willow happily chatting with each other from her brain, and things only got worse when her imagination decided to make her feel even more miserable by showing her images of them holding hands, kissing and making out, and all the other things Arya had dreamed to do to and with Gendry.

 

She furiously wiped a stray tear off her cheek with the back of her hand.

 

"He hasn't even worn the mittens I made for him," she muttered to herself.

 

 _They are ugly and probably don't fit him,_ the logical part of her brain reminded her.

 

She bit her lip and shook her head.

 

_Stop being stupid, he's not your boyfriend and he doesn't know you like him. Get over yourself._

 

Easier said than done.

 

*

 

As Arya was setting the alarm on her phone, she received a message from Gendry. She couldn't help but feel a bit sad and even disappointed because he hand't called or texted earlier.

 

_You are not the center of his world._

 

She hesitated to open the message. She knew she was acting stupidly since she was dying to know what he had to say, but still, she wanted to pretend otherwise.

 

_Fuck it._

 

_Hey, what happened? Why did you run away without saying goodbye? Are you free tomorrow? Willow got tickets for Tom Sevenstrings' concert, wanna go?_

 

_Ugh, stupid bullheaded boy._

 

Arya deleted the message and threw away her phone. She hugged her pillow close to her and lay still for a while, just thinking.

 

_He said he wanted me, but want and love are two different things. He must want me as a friend, like a little sister._

 

Arya squeezed her eyes shut and buried her face on the covers, not wanting to think anymore.

 

 

**_Bonfire_ **

 

When Gendry saw Arya sitting alone by the bonfire, he knew it was the perfect time to talk to her. She had been avoiding him for weeks and he still wasn't sure why. He had thought long and hard to find a reason for her sudden change, but there wasn't anything, or at least that's what he thought.

 

To make matters worse, everyone had noticed the change in their friendship. His parents, Lommy and Hot Pie, his friends at the garage, all of them knew something had happened and they all had questioned him about it, but he couldn't give them an answer.

 

Hot Pie's camping trip idea had been the perfect excuse to be close to her again, to spend some time by her side. Sadly, his plans hand't worked as expected since she had been avoiding him like the plague from the moment they got there.

 

Was she tired of him? Had she had enough of their friendship? Did she finally realized he was a poor guy from Flea Bottom that would probably amount to nothing? He couldn't help but ask himself.

 

He was starting to believe he had lost her, and to lose Arya Stark would mean losing a big part of his life. He wasn't ready for that.

 

Gendry took a deep breath and walked decidely towards her. When he got close to her, she raised her head, meeting his gaze for a second before looking away.

 

He sat by her side, keeping a polite distance between them.

 

"Aren't you cold?" He finally asked her, breaking the silence.

 

"I'm sitting in front of a bonfire, what do you think?"

 

"Well, I _am_ cold," he said, trying to make some small talk.

 

"Then why are you here? go back to your tent," she said to him in a cold tone, standing up and looking down at him, "I'm sure Willow will keep you warm," she finished before walking away.

 

She was gone in a moment and he barely had the chance to react.

 

"Wait, what?" He stood up and rushed to her side. "Arya, wait a minute, where are you going?"

 

"Don't follow me, I'm going to pee."

 

"Well you better turn around, the restrooms are in the opposite direction, unless you're planning to pee on the lake."

 

"Leave me alone."

 

"No."

 

"Go away."

 

"No."

 

"Go back to her."

 

"Could you please stop acting like a child for a minute?" She stopped and turned around. The look on her face would have been scary if he didn't know her better. Behind her scowl and tense lips, he could see sadness. "Arya, what's going on? Why are you being like this? Don't wanna be friends anymore?"

 

"Friends," she muttered, "that's all we are, right?" She smiled bitterly.

 

"Well, yes."

 

She nodded sadly and looked away. "Sorry, I'm just being stupid, don't mind me."

 

"Arya, tell me what's going on? you have been avoinding me for weeks, did I say something? did I offend you? if I did, I'm sorry."

 

She shook her head. "No, you did nothing wrong. I'm just bitter and stupid, I've been imagining things, seeing things that never existed, I'm just stupid," she chuckled. "Let's go back, I'm cold."

 

She walked past him and didn't look back.

 

Gendry stood there for a moment. This didn't feel right. He ran after her and stopped her, pulling her close to him and hugging her tight. He was ready to face her wrath, ready to avoid her kicks and puches, but to his surprise, she only hugged him back.

 

"Don't do that again, okay?" He muttered close to her ear.

 

"I won't," she sniffed.

 

By the time they went back to the camp, everyone was already asleep.

 

"Where's your tent?" He asked her.

 

"Didn't bring one, I was planning to sleep under the stars," she shrugged, "I stole Jon's old sleeping bag he used to use when he went camping north of the Wall, it's pretty good and it's not that cold here."

 

"No way you're sleeping outside," he shook his head.

 

"Where am I going to sleep then?"

 

"In my tent."

 

"But-"

 

"No buts, c'mon," he pulled her inside his tent, paying no attention to her complaints.

 

"Where's Willow?"

 

"Sharing a tent with Lommy, of course," he chuckled.

 

" _Oh. . ._ "

 

She refused to meet his eyes.

 

"Yes _oh_."

 

Gendry was stupid, but not _that_ stupid.

 

When they finally got settled, Gendry pulled her close to him under the blanket.

 

"I've missed you, Arry," he told her, caressing her cheek with his nuckles.

 

She moved closer to him, buring her face on his chest. "I've missed you too, stupid."

 

"Funny, I actually missed you calling me stupid every five minutes."

 

Arya laughed, nuzzling her face against him and sighing. "Night, Gendry."

 

"Night, Arry."

 

 

**_Hoodie_ **

 

A few weeks after the camping trip, things were back to normal between them . . . or as normal as they can be after you wake up tangled in your best friends arms and with a huge hard on.

 

Gendry knew something had changed between them after that night, and he was sure Arya felt the same way, only he didn't know just how much.

 

They were still best friends, they teased each other, mocked each other, hanged out together as much as ever, fought over the same stupid things, but now, every teasing word came with a flirty smile, their fights were just an excuse to make up with hugs and shy caresses (or soft punches in Arya's case), and hanging around usually meant going on dates that neither acknowledged as dates.

 

He liked her, he always had, only in a different way, and he had a tiny suspicion that she felt the same about him, but still, he was scared to be the one to give the first step and fuck everything up, and Arya didn't seem to be in a rush to recognize or speak out loud about her feelings. Sometimes he even had the feeling she was doing it on purpose, torturing him for some reason.

 

So, he finally decided to take things slow and let their feelings flow naturally in whatever direction they might take them.

 

Everything had been going great, working just fine, until Edric Dayne appeared in the picture.

 

If Richie Rich, as he called Edric, had just been a normal guy, Gendry wouldn't have become the pathetic mess he was right now, but thanks to his shit luck, Edric was not only rich and the poster child of medieval chivalry, but he was also the "most polite and handsome young man" in the eyes of Catelyn Stark, who considered Edric the perfect boy to be by her daughter's side, according to Arya anyway.

 

And to make matters worse, Arya actually enjoyed Edric's company he could tell. She called him Ned, which also happened to be her father's nickname, she had introduced him to some of their friends, traitor friends who had welcome the blond idiot with open arms, and she had even invited him to her mother's charity event.

 

Gendry had been invited as well, he was Arya's best friend after all and the idea behind the event had been Arya's, but after a whole day of watching Edric getting too close to Arya, he had regretted going in the first place.

 

When he saw Arya putting on Edric's sweater, while he whispered something very close to her ear, Gendry knew he had had enough. He approached them and cleared his throat very loudly to make himself noticeable.

 

"Where have you been?" Arya asked him, a light tone of anger in her voice.

 

He shrugged. "Around, you just have been too busy to notice."

 

She frowned, but said no more.

 

"I'm going home, I have to wake up early tomorrow."

 

Her expression changed all of a sudden. "You're not having dinner with us?"

 

He thought she sounded almost disappointed, but he shook his head no anyway.

 

"But you helped me, _us,_ so much, all the volunteers are going, you have to go."

 

"I want to, but I'm tired, I have the morning shift at the inn tomorrow."

 

Arya bit her lip. "Can you take me home?"

 

"Can you take her?" He asked Edric.

 

"Sure," Edric replied casually.

 

Arya crossed her arms over her chest, scowling at him. "So you speak for me now?"

 

"I just made you a favor."

 

"I asked you to take me, not him."

 

"I think you'll be more comfortable in his car."

 

"I'll be more comfortable once I kick your ass."

 

He snorted. "I don't think your legs can reach that high."

 

"Um, guys?" Edric tried to interrupt.

 

"Shut up!" They both yelled at Edric at the same time.

 

"Uh, okay, I think I'll leave you two alone," he said, before walking away.

 

"Your little lord just ran away," Gendry said mockingly.

 

"He's not _my_ little lord."

 

"Really? That's hard to believe, seeing how close you two have become."

 

Arya narrowed her eyes. "What are you talking about?"

 

"Whose sweater is that?" He asked her, trying to prove his point with very poor arguments.

 

"Oh, it's Edric's."

 

"See what I mean?"

 

"What?"

 

"It looks ridiculous on you, you know."

 

"It's just a sweater," she said dismissively.

 

"It's too big for you."

 

"I always wear baggy clothes."

 

"I don't want to see you wearing men clothes again."

 

"One," she said, "I have worn men clothes a million times and you never cared, and two," she continued, "I can dress however the hell I want," she told him, punching him hard in the arm.

 

He knew he should stop acting like an idiot teenager and apologize, but he couldn't, he was pathetic and he was jealous.

 

Actually, he was in love and jealous and he wanted Arya all for himself.

 

"I know, it's just . . . this one doesn't suit you, okay? Just . . . " he went very quiet and raked his hair with his fingers, "forget it," he finally said, sighing.

 

He kept his gaze glued to the floor, completely missing the mischievous grin on her face.

 

"Gendry," she called him, walking closer to him, "are you jealous because I'm wearing Edric's sweater?"

 

"No." He refused to meet her eyes.

 

"Are you jealous because Edric is my friend?"

 

Gendry looked up at her, his expression showed a mixture of pain, anger and sadness.

 

Arya smiled at him. "You are jealous."

 

 _Just admit it, stupid!_ his brain screamed at him.

 

"Yeah, I think I am, sorry."

 

Arya frowned. "Why? Don't be sorry, I'm glad you are jealous, it means you care," she said. "And now you know how I felt about you and Willow."

 

"What? Willow and I are nothing more than friends."

 

"Well, it's the same with me and Edric."

 

"Really?"

 

"Of course, stupid!"

 

"Oh cool," he grabbed the bottom of Edric's sweater and pulled it off of her in one quick, sudden movement.

 

"What are you doing?" Arya said, laughter in her voice.

 

He quickly took off his hoodie and helped her to put it on, he zipped it all the way up, placed the hood over her head and pulled it with his fingertips, moving her adorable face closer to him.

 

"There, that looks better." He stared at her with soft eyes and gave her a smile, "I like you, Arya," he finally said out loud.

 

Her cheeks went beet red and her piercing grey eyes, that shone brighter than ever at that moment, told him almost all he needed to know.

 

Her lips said the rest.

 

She stood on her tiptoes and put her arms around his neck, pulling him down to reach his lips more easily. Arya's kiss was a reflection of herself: fierce, energectic and undeniably sweet, and he wanted nothing more but to keep kissing her forever. He surrounded her waist with his arm, bringing her even closer to him, and tilted her head a little until their mouths found the best position, their desperate lips molding perfectly to each other. He sucked on her lower lip, bit on it, tasted it. She moaned softly, opening her mouth to receive more of him, and he wanted to give her more, but then he remembered where they were and thought their public display of affection could get them in trouble. He kissed the corner of her mouth, placed a quick peck on her plump lips and pulled away, she wanted to keep going, judging by the way her face kept following his, but he just smiled and straightened his back, making it difficult for her to reach his lips again.

 

"Why did you stop?"

 

"You mother might see us."

 

She snorted. "I don't care."

 

"Well, I do. I want to do things right."

 

Arya smiled. "You are so stupid, but I like you that way," she said, and buried her face on his chest.

 

"C'mon, I'll take you home," he told her, rubbing her back affectionally.

 

"Are you having dinner with us?" She asked him again, looking up at him. "It won't be anything fancy, I promise. I even convinced my mother of serving burgers and hot dogs, couldn't convince her about the beer, though."

 

Gendry laughed and craddled her pretty, long face in his hands. "Sure, I'll go."

 

Arya looked at him with suspicious eyes. "Not feeling tired anymore?"

 

"Nope, not at all."

 

"Stupid."

 

They held hands all the way to his truck.

 

"My hoodie looks great on you."

 

Arya looked at herself. "It's weird, I never thought yellow was my color."

 

"Well, it suits you," he said. "I wonder how nice you'll look wearing my shirts."

 

"Don't worry, we'll figure it out soon enough," she told him, winking at him and giving him a smile that meant nothing but trouble.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> * What's the correct plural of the word scarf? I've always seen and heard scarves as the plural form, but the prompt list used the word scarfs and when I checked online I saw that both are correct, and now I'm confused, lol.


	22. Autumn Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is longer than the last. Clearly, I don't know how or when to stop. *shakes fist*
> 
> Third and last part of the Autumn series, I hope you enjoy it.

 

**_Apple cider_ **

 

"Fuck," Gendry cursed as soon as they got inside his flat, "I need a beer."

 

Arya chuckled. "Wasn't the apple cider enough for you?" She asked him, wrapping her arms around him from behind, resting her head on his back.

 

"God, no. I don't know how I managed to deal with your parents without a single drop of alcohol," he said, leaning against her.

 

"You did great," she told him, kissing his back. "Thank you for coming."

 

He turned around and craddled her face with his hands. "Don't thank me, it's what I wanted, the right thing to do."

 

Arya looked directly at his eyes and smiled. "I still can't believe my mom was so cool about everything."

 

"About us, you mean," he said, caressing the top of her cheeks with his thumbs.

 

"Well yeah." Her expression changed suddenly and subtly, "I was afraid, you know," her voice sounded a bit sad, "I thought she might say or do something to scare you and push you away from me."

 

"Don't be stupid," he said, wrapping his arms around her, "nothing can push me away from you," he assured her, kissing the crown of her head. "You should give your mother some credit, she is strict and a bit stuck up, but she's also nice and fair."

 

"I guess." Arya held him tighter. "But my dad likes you a lot, I can tell," she looked up at him, a big grin on her lips.

 

"How so?"

 

"First of all, he didn't kill you for dating his little girl," she grinned, "and second, he asked me to show you the godswood, that means a lot."

 

Gendry smiled, looking a bit proud. "Well, I like him as well, he's a good man, the kind of father I dreamed about before my mother died."

 

Arya said nothing, she just looked at him tenderly before she stood on her toes and pecked him on the cheek.

 

"Rickon and Bran like you a lot too, I think. Stupid Robb told me he thought I was joking when I said I had a boyfriend and then he had the nerve to ask me if I was paying you to date me."

 

Gendry laughed. "I'm sure he was joking."

 

"Oh, I know," she said. "And even Sansa approves of you in her own way, not that I give a fuck about her approval, but it's nice to know that I won't have to kick her ass for turning her nose at you every time she sees you around."

 

"Don't worry about it, I think I can deal with a bit of snobbery."

 

"Yeah, but I can't. Anyway, now you only have to meet Jon, but that's going to be an entirely different situation."

 

Gendry shuddered. "He's gonna kill me."

 

"Nah, he'll probably just kick you a bit, but don't worry, I'll protect you," she assured him.

 

"You promise?"

 

"I promise." She pulled him down and kissed him full on the mouth, tasting the apple cider on his lips.

 

 

**_Harvest/Yellow moon_ **

 

For Arya, one of the advantages about living off campus was that she could sneak in and out of her dormitory any time she wanted. The best thing about it, however, was that she didn't have to ask permission –or invent an excuse– to spend the night away from home.

 

Those days were long gone and Arya couldn't say she missed them.

 

Today, Arya was going to spend the night at Gendry's flat for the first time.

 

She was happy, she was giddy with excitement and she was totally nervous about it. She couldn't understand why she felt that way, though she had a suspicion. They had spent some nights together while they were camping, they had even fallen asleep on his truck in more than one ocassion, after some particularly long make out sessions, but this was going to be different, she just knew.

 

It was one step further into a more serious and mature relationship and Arya couldn't help but being excited about it.

 

When she arrived at his flat door, she found a note posted to it.

 

_Meet me at the rooftop._

_Love,_

_Gendry._

Arya took the note and placed it carefully inside her bag. He was sweet and she was stupid like that.

 

She rushed upstairs but slowed down four or three steps before reaching the top. She didn't want to appear needy and desperate even if she was.

 

He was waiting for her when she opened the door of the rooftop, looking handsome and grinning like an idiot.

 

"Arry," he called her softly.

 

She stood still for a moment, admiring his handsomeness, and then walked towards him.

 

"Gendry," her voice came out in a sweet, breathy whisper and she would have kicked herself for it if she hadn't been so stupidly happy.

 

"You look nice," he said, staring lovingly at her face.

 

"Like an oak tree?" She teased him.

 

"Shut up," he told her, smiling and pulling her close to him. "Don't make fun of my silly compliments. I was young and didn't know better."

 

Arya laughed, resting her chin on his shoulder. "Don't worry, you are getting better."

 

He held her tighter and placed a kiss on her temple before letting her go. "Are you hungry?"

 

"I'm starving!"

 

"Good."

 

He moved aside, allowing her to see what was waiting for her. Her eyes went wide and a big smile formed on her lips as soon as she caught a glimpse of what he had done.

 

There was a garden set placed in the middle of the rooftop. The small table was covered in a red and white checkered tablecloth, while a thick candle adorned its center. There was a blanket drapped over one of the chairs, a big basket full of food was waiting for them and a large thermo was placed on the side. It was perfect.

 

"You did all of this?"

 

"Yup."

 

"All by yourself?"

 

"Of course! I mean, I got a little bit of help from Hot Pie and Lommy, but the rest I did on my own," he stretched out his arm, "come, let's eat."

 

Arya took his hand and gave it a soft squeeze.

 

He held her chair out for her. "M'lady."

 

"Thank you, Ser Stupid," she smiled, letting go of his hand and making herself comfortable. "What's for dinner?" She asked excitedly.

 

"All of your favorites" He said, taking two very big and carefully wrapped packets out of one of those insulated lunch boxes.

 

Arya recognized the wrapping tissue immediately. "Fuck, are those Umma's burgers?"

 

"Yes they are."

 

"God, give them to me now!" She exclaimed, making grabby hands at him.

 

He laughed, quickly handing her one of the burguers.

 

"My baby," Arya whispered, holding the burger close to her face, whispering sweet nothings to it.

 

"Hey!" Gendry exclaimed, looking playfully offended, "You never say sweet things to me."

 

"I do," she said while she unwrapped the burger, "only not to your face."

 

"Rude."

 

It was a lie, for every time Arya called him stupid, she also made sure to tell him how much she loved him and how important he was to her. Perhaps she didn't use the sweetest, most poetic words when talking about her feelings for him, but she was always passionate and never afraid of saying too much too soon. When some people had been stupid enough to make fun of her for daring to speak about love at such a young age, Arya had only smiled, told them she felt sorry for "their bitter selves" and wished them good luck. With time, she had learned to choose her battles, and some people were just not worthy opponents.

 

Arya was a fighter, she was loving and feisty. She had a weakness for defending people and she was never afraid of speaking her mind. Gendry loved each side of her. He loved her.

 

They talked non stop as much as the eating allowed, speaking about everything and nothing at all, at some point they had even made plans for the Winter holidays. Arya wished they could take some days off to visit Jon at the Wall so Gendry could finally meet him. Gendry was not fascinated with the idea, but he couldn't deny her, not when her brother meant so much to her. Gendry was not afraid to admit that while he was Arya's other half, her brother Jon was her soulmate, so, as scared as he was of not meeting her brother's expectations, he couldn't help but being a bit excited to meet the one person who knew Arya just as good as he did, probably even better.

 

After they finished stuffing themselves with dessert and his mother's hot cocoa, they could barely move.

 

"God, this was perfect," she said while she rubbed her belly.

 

"Glad you enjoyed it."

 

"I think I've gained ten pounds since I started dating you."

 

"Yeah, but in all the right places," he wiggled his eyebrows at her, a cheeky grin on his face.

 

"You only like me for my body," she accused him, "you don't care for my soul!" She added dramatically, placing the back of her hand against her forehead.

 

He laughed. "Well, you got me there."

 

"So shallow," she shook her head. "God, I can't breathe, I should have worn some loose pants or something."

 

Gendry stood up suddenly. "We could exercise."

 

"No way, nope, I'm not going anywhere, I can barely move."

 

"We are not going anywhere."

 

"Huh? I'm not going to walk around the rooftop."

 

"You won't, I promise." He messed with his phone for a moment, placed it over the table and held out his hand to her. "Wanna dance?" He asked her shyly.

 

"Gendry, you know I can't dance."

 

"Me neither, still, do you want to try?"

 

She bit her lip. "I suppose it's better here than in the middle of a big crowd."

 

"Exactly," he smiled.

 

She took his hand, he pressed play on his phone and the music began.

 

_Come a little bit closer_

_Hear what I have to say_

_Just like children sleepin'_

_We could dream this night away._

 

He took her a few steps away from the table and placed her hands around his neck. He clasped his hands behind her back, resting just above the curve of her ass.

 

"Comfy?" She asked him, looking up at him.

 

"Very."

 

They swayed to the sound of the music, comfortable and secure in each other's arms.

 

_But there's a full moon risin'_

_Let's go dancin' in the light_

_We know where the music's playin'_

_Let's go out and feel the night._

 

"Did you made a playlist especially for this?"

 

"Would you laugh if I said I did?"

 

"Totally."

 

He smiled and looked down. She felt bad.

 

"Hey, look at me," she asked him softly, giving him one of her sweetest smiles. "Honestly, I think I just fell for you even deeper, if that is possible."

 

He looked at her with his bright blue eyes that never lied. "Call me stupid, but I think I fall in love with you a bit more with each passing day."

 

They were stupidly in love with each other and were not afraid to admit it out loud.

 

He bent down before she could say anything and hid his face in the curve of her neck, inhaling her scent, enjoying the warmth and softness of her skin.

 

Arya rested her chin on his shoulder and closed her eyes, running her hands through his shaggy black hair, touching softly the back of his neck just the way he liked it.

 

_Because I'm still in love with you_

_I want to see you dance again_

_Because I'm still in love with you_

_On this harvest moon._

 

They continued dancing in the same spot, swaying side to side to the sound of the soft, positive melody.

 

Arya had to admit that Gendry had done a great job picking the music.

 

When she opened her eyes again and got the chance to see the view beyond his shoulder, she could do nothing but smile. The moon looked bigger and brighter than ever against the night sky, and all the tiny lights coming from the buildings' windows only helped to make it look even more majestic. She grinned thinking they were fortunate that only the moon could witness their poor dancing skills.

 

Perhaps it was silly, but Arya thought they were beyond lucky to start another stage of their relationship under such a wonderful full moon.

 

_But now it's gettin' late_

_And the moon is climbin' high_

_I want to celebrate_

_See it shinin' in your eye._

 

Gendry straightened his back and she had to lose her hold on him.

 

"What is it?" She asked him.

 

He smiled before pressing a kiss on her forehead, the tip of her nose and, finally, her lips. He continued looking at her in silence.

 

"What?" She asked again nervously.

 

"We should go back to my apartment."

 

She frowned, feeling a bit disappointed. "Don't wanna exercise anymore?"

 

"I do, but not here."

 

"Where then?"

 

"My bed."

 

Arya could feel her cheeks getting red. She bit her lip and said, "Then we better warm up first."

 

She jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist, and almost devoured him with her eager lips.

 

_Because I'm still in love with you_

_I want to see you dance again_

_Because I'm still in love with you_

_On this harvest moon._

 

 

**_Falling leaves_ **

 

Like it happened every Autumn, they were back at Acorn Hall. The small keep turned into a bed and breakfast type of inn was one of their favorite places in the Riverlands, and now that Arya was about to graduate, they just knew they had to go back before she got a proper job and the chance to take some days off disappeared for a while.

 

The inkeeper knew them well and she was very fond of them, so she always made sure of giving them the room with the best view, even if they didn't spend much time indoors.

 

The inn held some of their most fond memories, and today, they were creating some new ones.

 

"Fuck . . . Gendry . . . yes . . . " Arya mumbled against his shoulder, her teeth biting into his skin to soften her moans.

 

Gendry had her pinned against the bark of an oak tree, fucking her senseless.

 

"Arya . . . love . . ." He grunted on her ear, thrusting fast and hard against her, groaning, muttering words of love and lust to the chilly air.

 

She tightened her legs around him, not wanting to fall and break the spell, the delicious build up, the amazing feeling of tension and warmth that existed between them at that moment. She ran her hands up and down his back, threaded her long fingers through the thickness of his black mane, knowing too well how much he enjoyed it when she touched him that way, when she let him know she loved every inch of his body just as much as he loved hers.

 

Arya left a trail of kisses from his shoulder to his jaw, licking and biting his neck on the way, wanting to taste as much of him as possible, wishing to leave her mark on him. Perhaps it was stupid, but she didn't care and he didn't mind either. Arya didn't feel entitled to him, didn't wish to own him, but she did feel possessive of him.

 

He was hers.

 

When she captured his mouth and their lips met in a well practiced dance, Arya craddled his face between her hands, holding it as close as possible to hers, caressing his bearded cheeks with the tips of her fingers. Their lips remained locked for a long while and their tongues met more than once. He swallowed her moans every time she reacted to the touch of his hands and fingers on her cunt, her ass, her breasts. She was still half dressed, but that didn't mean Gendry was incapable of pleasing her through her clothes. He knew exactly where to pich, where to tickle, where to rub and so he did. After all, practice makes perfect, and they never got tired of practicing.

 

After some time, Arya had to let go of his lips to catch her breath. She looked up, granting him access to her neck, and smiled. Not only was his beard tickling her sensitive skin, but their fucking was hard enough to shake the old tree. Its falling leaves could be seen all around them, dancing in the air.

 

Right at that moment, with hundreds of golden leaves surrounding them as they fucked, Arya wished time could stop. Having him so close to her, feeling his thickness inside her body and his warm lips on her skin, always made her wish for the impossible.

 

Gendry continued thrusting, increasing the pace little by little, but when Arya let out a soft cry of pain, he stopped abruptly, worried he had hurt her.

 

"I'm sorry, Arry, I'm sorry," he apologized against her plump lips, "I'm a brute."

 

He meant to put her feet on the ground, but she didn't let him.

 

"Shh . . ." she shook her head, "you didn't hurt me, the tree did," she smiled. "Guess it's mad at us for being so shameless," she grinned.

 

"I'm sorry," he said again, placing a soft kiss on the corner of her lips, "I'll be more careful."

 

"Don't you dare," she warned him, "just fuck me."

 

And so he did.

 

He lifted her up and pushed hard and fast against her again, moving easily in and out of her due to her incredible wetness. His dick was impossibly hard, the warmth and tightness of her cunt combined with the sweetness of her moans only helped to make him harder. Gendry moaned and cursed every time her walls tightened around him. He started to shake and his movements lost some of their rhythm and he knew he was close.

 

Before he could lose himself to the absolute pleasure, his thumb found its way back to her cunt and began rubbing her clit. When she bit on her lip and let out a loud cry of ecstasy, he knew he had done well.

 

"Come, Gen," she whispered on his ear, her breathy voice sounded satisfied.

 

"Arya," he moaned one last time before spilling deep inside of her.

 

They stood still for a while, both wanting to catch their breaths and enjoy the last wave of their orgasms. When he tried to put some distance between them, Arya stopped him, looking a bit shy.

 

"No," she said, "I want to feel you a little longer."

 

He smiled, admiring the blush of her cheeks, and pressed a soft kiss on her lips. "As you wish."

 

Gendry could feel her wetness and his seed mixing and trickling down his dick. It was a curious sensation, one that made him feel oddly excited and possessive of her. He pressed several kisses along her jawline while he gently rubbed circles with his thumbs on her hips.

 

"Gendry?"

 

"Yeah," he mumbled, suckling softly on her skin.

 

"Let's get married."

 

He stopped his caresses and leaned back slowly, scared he had heard wrong, or worse, that she was joking. However, when he looked at her eyes, he knew she was totally serious and waiting for his answer.

 

"What?" He knew he had the silliest expression on his face.

 

"Marry me, stupid."

 

"Right now?"

 

"No, not right now, but soon."

 

He smiled and ran the tip of his finger along her cheek. "Only you would ask me to marry you while my pants are on my knees and my dick his going soft inside you."

 

She chuckled and gave him a quick peck on the lips. "Is that a yes?"

 

"Absolutely. I will marry you, Arya Stark."

 

"I can't wait to live with you and boss you around all the time."

 

"You do that already."

 

Arya laughed and her eyes got watery. "I love you, Gendry. I truly do."

 

"I love you, too, more than you can imagine." He picked a leaf out of her messy hair and showed it to her. "My forest lass."

 

They smiled at each other and did not let go.

 

 

**_Fireplace_ **

 

After three weeks of cleaning and packing, they had finally moved into their new home.

 

As much as they missed their old flat and despite all they had to sacrifice to pay for their new place, they could not deny it was nice to have a house with one extra bedroom, two bathrooms and enough space to get a pet.

 

But what made this house special and different from the others was the gorgeous fireplace that adorned the living room. Arya fell in love at first sight and when Gendry saw the expression on her face, he knew they had to seal the deal.

 

On the very same day they got the keys to their new home, they had rushed back to the house and, because they couldn't help themselves, made love in front of the fireplace, twice. After that, Gendry knew they had made the right choice.

 

When her mother got them a very expensive looking rug as a housewarming gift, something they didn't even know was a thing, to decorate the space in front of the fireplace, they burst out laughing and thanked her a million times for her very practical and useful gift. If only she had known.

 

Arya leaned against the couch, her lower back had been killing her lately, but the heat coming from the fireplace helped to ease her discomfot a little. She let out a deep sigh.

 

"Tired?"

 

She smiled and nodded. "Just a little, who would have thought organizing books and CDs could be so stressful and complicated."

 

Gendry laughed, offering her the beer he was holding, "Want a sip?"

 

She scrunched up her nose.

 

"More for me," he said, taking a big gulp. "Move," he asked her.

 

He sat behind her and opened his legs to accomodate her. She rested her back on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

 

"Leave it for tomorrow," he told her, kissing her neck softly, breathing her in.

 

"Okay," she said, tilting her head to the side, giving him better access to her neck. One of his hands started rubbing the underside of her breast, while the other had soon find its place under her pants. Arya smiled as he caressed her belly and shuddered as his fingers moved lower through her pubic hair down to her folds.

 

As she moved her gaze around the room, she spotted an old looking shoe box. She frowned, she could have sworn she had gotten rid of all the shoe boxes.

 

"What's that?"

 

"Your cunt," he said confidently, moving his fingers up and down her slit and sucking on the skin below her ear.

 

She laughed and moved away from Gendry, earning an angry groan from him.

 

"What are you doing?"

 

She stretched, reaching for the box. "I don't remember this one, is it yours?" She asked him.

 

He smiled and took the box from her hands. "Yeah, it's my treasure box."

 

"Really? cool," she bit her lip. "Can I see what's inside?"

 

"Sure," he said, pressing a quick kiss on her lips.

 

She removed the lid and gasped, not believing her eyes.

 

"You still have them? I thought you had thrown them away since you never wore them."

 

"How could I throw them away? You knit them for me!"

 

"But you never used them!"

 

"Arya," he said, trying to put on the mittens that only covered half of his hands.

 

"Oh," she chuckled, "sorry."

 

He shook his head. "I hope my wife will knit something that fits me for the Winter."

 

"No way in hell."

 

He laughed. "Hey, remember when you got all jealous because you thought Willow had knit matching scarves for–"

 

Arya elbowed him hard on the stomach. "Don't remind me, stupid! How could I possibly know her aunt had knit them for you as a thank you gift!" She exclaimed, looking a bit embarrassed.

 

"You look the cutest when you are jealous," he teased her.

 

"Shut up!" She smacked him hard on his leg.

 

"Ow! That hurt!"

 

"Great!"

 

She continued looking through the box, finding all sort of mementos that put a smile on her face and made her heart beat a little faster.

 

The tickets of the first concert they attended together, a bunch of leaves and acorns he had saved from one of their trips to Acorn Hall, probably from the day they had agreed to get married, one of the fliers they had handed out when they worked disguised as scarecrows, pictures they had taken together at different places, her favorite brownie recipe she had cut out from the back of a cake mix box and that she thought she had lost, a small sample of her favorite perfume, a plastic bag . . .

 

"A plastic bag?"

 

He smiled and took it from her. He unfolded the bag carefully and showed it to her. "Remember?"

 

"Oh my god, you kept it all this time?"

 

He nodded.

 

"I can't believe it," she said, looking at her old candy bag.

 

"It was your first gift to me, how could I throw it away?"

 

Arya couldn't stop herself, she started sobbing and quickly burrowed her face into his chest.

 

Gendry wrapped one of his arms around her and with his free hand, he began rubbing gentle circles on her back. "Don't cry," he asked her, laughing against his better judgment. He could hear her mumbling something, but her words got lost between her cries and the closeness of her mouth to his chest. "What did you say?"

 

"I–I said y–you're so–so cheesy," she managed to say, pulling her face away from him a little.

 

He laughed, "I'll take that as a compliment." He dried her tears with the back of his finger. "There, don't cry, you look ugly when you cry."

 

"No, I don't."

 

"You really don't," he said, chuckling.

 

"Oh," she seemed to remember something. "Don't move, I'll be back in a moment," she kissed him and stood up quickly, pushing herself up on his shoulders.

 

She came back a couple of minutes later, biting her lip, hands behind her back. She stood still for a moment and then she smiled.

 

The light coming from the fireplace illuminated her lovely face and made her pretty grey eyes shine in a way he had never seen before.

 

Gendry felt a sudden pang on his chest, it wasn't painful or anything like that, it was something entirely different he couldn't describe, but it made him feel like the luckiest man in the world.

 

"I think you could add this to your treasure box," she said, moving forward and extending her hand to him. "I don't think it's very hygienic, but maybe we can put it inside one of those resealable bags."

 

He smiled, "What is that?"

 

"Our next memory."

 

He took the plastic stick from her hands and frowned for a second before looking up at her with the most adorable expression on his face. "Is this what I think it is?"

 

"What do you think it is?" She asked him, a knowing smile on her lips.

 

He was on his feet in a second. "Arya . . . are you? Are we?"

 

"We are."

 

He laughed and ran towards her, wrapping both arms around her and lifting her up off the floor, hugging her tight.

 

"Now I'll have to find a bigger box," he whispered on her ear. "I love you."

 

"We love you, too."

 

 

_**Pumpkin patch** _

 

Two little kids were walking hurriedly through a pumpkin patch, trying to get away from their parents without being noticed.

 

Well, one of them wanted to get away, the other was being forced into it.

 

"I want to go back, Arra," the little boy said, looking worried.

 

"Don't be such a baby, Jon," Arra huffed, pulling harder on her brother's hand, "you said you wanted to see it!"

 

"Yes, but I don't want to be alone here."

 

"You won't be alone, you'll be with me!"

 

"But I want mommy and daddy," he said.

 

"Don't be stupid, it won't appear if mom and dad are with us!"

 

"Why?"

 

"Because it doesn't like adults."

 

"Why?"

 

"Becase they don't believe in it."

 

"Why?"

 

"Stop asking why!"

 

The little boy chewed on his lip. "Daddy is going to get mad at us."

 

"No, he won't," Arra assured her little brother knowing too well it was lie. "Here, this will do," she said, finding a nice spot under an old wooden crate, pulling her brother behind her.

 

"How long do we have to stay here, Arra?"

 

"I don't know, until it's dark."

 

The boy shuddered. "I don't like the darkness, Arra."

 

"Uncle Bran told me the darkness can't hurt us and I will protect you if anything bad happens, okay?"

 

"Anything bad?" The little boy looked even more afraid now. "Arra," he said, his lips trembling, "I'm scared."

 

Arra put her arm around her brother and pulled him closer to her. "Don't be a baby, nothing will happen."

 

"You promise?"

 

"I promise," she said, kissing her brother's chubby cheek. "Are you hungry?" She tried to distract him.

 

Jon nodded.

 

Arra took off her wolf shaped backpack from her shoulders and pulled out a bag of cookies from it. "Here, eat these."

 

"Oh, are these uncle Hot Pie's cookies?"

 

"Yeah," she said, smiling.

 

"Yummy!" The little boy started munching happily on the cookies, his worries forgotten for a moment. "What else did you bring?" He asked his sister, spilling crumbs everywhere.

 

"Um . . ." Arra opened her bag, checking inside. "A flashlight, a bottle of water, your blankie, and this!" She exclaimed, holding Needle on her hand.

 

The little boy gasped out loud. "Mommy's gonna be so mad! She told you Needle is not a toy."

 

"Duh, I know that silly," she rolled her eyes, "it's a weapon for protection!"

 

"Mommy won't be happy about this," he told her, shaking his head.

 

"Well, she won't know unless you tell her!"

 

"I won't know what exactly, Arra?"

 

Both kids jumped, scared by their mother's sudden appearance.

 

"Get out of there," she asked them, looking both relieved and upset. "Gendry, I found them!"

 

A very clear _thank fuck_ was heard in the distance and both children started to giggle.

 

"Daddy said a bad word," Jon whispered, covering his mouth with his little hands.

 

"Dad said the _f_ word," Arra especified.

 

"Arra!" Her mother shook her head.

 

Jon jumped into his mother's arms and rained kisses on her.

 

"Mamma's boy," Arra muttered, looking annoyed.

 

"I heard you, Arra!" Jon exclaimed. "Did you hear her, mommy?"

 

"Sure I did. What were you thinking, Arra? Why were you hiding?"

 

The little girl bit her lip, looking pensive, but the pensive look on her face was quickly replaced by a big smile as she saw her father getting closer. Arra didn't wait and ran up to her father, meeting him halfway. Her father picked her up and huged her in a tight embrace.

 

"Don't you ever, ever, do that again, understood?"

 

"Yes, daddy," she promised him.

 

"Why were you hiding, Arra?" Her mother asked her again. "It could have been really dangerous, you could have been hurt or taken away from us," her mother told them very seriously, and Jon wrapped his little arms even tighter around her, clearly scared.

 

"I'm sorry, mother," she apologized. "I just wanted to meet the Great Pumpkin so bad!"

 

"The Great Pumpkin?" Their mother went from confused to annoyed when their father started laughing. "What?" She asked him.

 

"You don't know who the Great Pumpkin is?"

 

"Uh, no?"

 

Their father chuckled and pressed a kiss to their mother's lips. Both Arra and Jon scrunched up their noses in disgust.

 

"Let's go back to the car, wife," he placed his hand around hers, "we have a movie to watch," he told her, smiling.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How cheesy was that? I'm sorry, I can't help it, I just love the fluffy stuff. *shrugs*


	23. The Forge in the Woods

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Late for Halloween, but on time for the Day of the Dead, so it sort of counts, right?
> 
> Remember, don't fear death, respect and celebrate it. And never forget your loved ones, no matter how long they have been gone.

 

As soon as Arya had been assigned her end of the year project for her photography class, she knew exactly what the subject of her work would be: the woods in the Riverlands.

 

The dense forest at her mother's hometown was the perfect scenario for her assigment and there was a particular spot she wanted to capture with the vintage camera her aunt Lyanna had given her for her last name day.

 

She had only seen the place once, many years before during her family's annual vacation in the area, but she still remembered it clear as a day. She had even dreamed about it a few times.

 

She parked her jeep on the side of the one way road, grabbed her backpack from the back seat, put the strap of the camera around her neck and called for her most loyal companion, Nymeria, her fierce Tamaskan dog.

 

Arya was adventurous and enjoyed spending time on her own, but she wasn't stupid, she knew that being alone and unprotected in the woods was not exactly a clever idea.

 

"C'mon, Nym!"

 

The wolf looking dog barked and jumped behind her master, wagging her tail happily.

 

"Let's go, girl!"

 

They walked along an old trail Arya was familiar with, stopping once in a while so Nymeria could sniff at things and she could take pictures of the scenery or some pretty looking birds.

 

She loved the forest and Nymeria did too. They felt comfortable there, free, happy even. As stupid as it sounded, Arya had always felt a sort of attraction, a connection with the woods in the Riverlands, there was something almost magical about it. Old Nan had told her once that perhaps, in a past life, Arya had lived or spent a lot of time there, or that her mother's blood was simply calling for her. Either way, she had learned to embrace and enjoy the feeling from a very young age.

 

They moved steadily up and down small hills until they reach the creek Arya and her siblings had spent many hours swimming in.

 

After Nymeria drank water to her heart's content, they continued walking through a narrow path that looked like it hadn't been used in years. To the untrained eye or to someone who simply wasn't familiar with the area, the trail would have been just another random spot in the middle of the woods, but Arya knew better.

 

She had discovered the almost unmarked route while playing _monsters-and-maidens_ with Bran and Rickon in one of their last family trips. She had walked hurriedly, trying to find the best spot to hide, and had not paid much attention to her surroundings until she stopped right in front of the old looking house. She didn't think twice and went inside, happily thinking her brothers would never find her there. As she looked around the place trying to find the best hiding spot, she realized it wasn't really a house but a forge. It was abandoned and almost in ruins, but it still had some of the last blacksmith's tools displayed on its walls, as well as the anvil and the work table.

 

She went to hide under the table and stood very still for over half an hour, until a very desperate looking Jon found her and almost dragged her back to the camp, wanting to get away from the forge as quickly as possible and swearing the place gave him the creeps.

 

Arya smiled at the memory and hoped the old forge was still intact, tools and anvil included.

 

Half way along the road, she decided to climb a rocky hill where she knew she could get an excellent view of the area.

 

"Stay here, Nymeria," she commanded her dog, "I'll be right back."

 

She had to be careful, watching her steps and moving slowly since most of the rocks were covered in moss, making the way up very slippery.

 

Arya only stayed at the top of the hill for half an hour, but for some reason, it felt like an eternity to her.

 

She had to be extra careful on the way down, but thankfully, she faced no obstacles. She found Nymeria resting in the same spot where she had left her and they continued their walk.

 

Fifteen minutes later, Arya grinned as she spotted the forge in the distance.

 

As they moved closer, the trail became even narrower and Nymeria had to move to walk in front of her. The bushes were pretty thick on both sides of the path and the grass reached up to Arya's knees, something that wasn't exactly impressive since she was rather on the short side, but still, it slowed down their walk.

 

The trees that surrounded the forge were also a lot taller and thicker than Arya remembered, making the area rather dark and gloomy. She supposed that was the reason why she felt a sudden drop in the temperature. She zipped her hoodie all the way up and got her camera ready.

 

She walked around the outside of the old building, taking pictures from different angles and positions, and only stopped when she noticed an area behind the forge where the trees didn't grow. She got closer and realized there used to be a bigger structure over there, but now, only the foundations remained.

 

It was probably the blacksmith's house, she considered. Arya walked over the structure, taking more photos, until she tripped with something. Not bothering to look down, she pushed whatever she had step on to the side and continued photographing her surroundings, until Nymeria whined softly and nuzzled her leg with her snout. Arya looked down and her first thought was that Nymeria had managed to capture her own lunch.

 

"Oh Nymeria, it's been only three hours since you ate, why did you–" she went quiet and frowned as she took a closer look at her dog's prey. "What the hell is that?"

 

She let go of her camera and bent down, taking a muddy piece of cloth out of her dog's snout, only it wasn't a piece of cloth but a doll. A faceless raggedy doll to be exact.

 

"Stupid, creepy doll," she muttered.

 

Arya had never liked dolls, not even as a little girl, and this one was definitely not going to change her mind. She would have dropped it and moved on, but she wondered if the doll had been there for years, waiting for a new owner. The thought, for some reason, made Arya feel sad.

 

"Perhaps she has been waiting for a new victim to haunt, Nym" she jokingly suggested. "Sorry girl, but that won't be me," she smiled, dusting some of the dirt off the doll, "oh . . ." Arya scowled when she noticed the burn marks on one side of the toy.

 

All of a sudden, the dog took off in direction of the forge.

 

"Nymeria, where are you going? Come back!"

 

But the dog didn't listen to her.

 

Arya shook her head and walked towards the building, doll in hand.

 

"Nymeria!" She exclaimed as she went inside, and soon felt a shiver run down her spine as the smell of burning and smoke hit her nose. _What the fuck?_

 

She looked around, trying to find the source of the smell, but there was nothing that could have caused it, unless . . . she went to check the furnace, but found nothing but dirt and leaves there, the ashes had been blown and washed away a long time ago. She shook her head again, thinking her senses had played a trick on her. She lifted up her camera and, as she placed her eye on the viewfinder and hit the shutter, Arya noticed a large figure blocking her way.

 

"What are you doing here?"

 

The deep voice boomed all around the place and she slowly lowered her camera at the sound of it.

 

When Arya focused her sight on the stranger, she immediately knew one thing: going alone to the woods on Halloween had been, perhaps, not her smartest decision.

 

 _Is my life about to turn into an episode of Unsolved Mysteries?_ She asked herself. _Do it the Stark way, Arya. Now it's not the time to be a craven._ "What the fuck are _you_ doing here?"

 

"I asked you first," the stranger replied. "And a lady shouldn't curse."

 

She snorted, "Thank fuck I'm not a lady then."

 

"What is that thing hanging from your neck?"

 

Arya looked down at her camera and then looked up at him, narrowing her eyes. "Are you a stoner?"

 

"I don't work the stone," he frowned, "I'm a blacksmith and a member of the brotherhood."

 

"Is that what you call your gang? You sure are getting creative."

 

"I don't know what a gang is," he replied seriously, "I am a knight of the Brotherhood without Banners."

 

The name felt familiar to her, but she couldn't remember where she had heard it before.

 

"A knight?" She took a closer look at him, noticing his weird and worn looking outfit. "Oh, now I get it, you are one of those people who attend the renaissance fair and delude themselves into thinking that it's real."

 

"What?"

 

 _Fuck, I hope he's not the dangerous sort of crazy._ "Nothing, forget what I– "

 

"Where in the Seven Hells did you get that?" The man interrupted her, moving dangerously close to her and snatching the doll from her hand. "What did you do to Weasel?"

 

"Weasel?"

 

The man dropped the doll and took her by the shoulders, looking angry and desperate. "Are you one of them? Where's Weasel? What did you do with the children?!"

 

"Calm the fuck down!" She exclaimed, kicking the man on his right shin with all the strenght she could muster.

 

The man let go of her and bent down to rub his leg, "Seven Hells! What kind of shoes are those?!"

 

"The kind made to kick your ass if necessary!"

 

"What kind of lady talks like that?"

 

"The kind that lives in the twenty first century, of course!"

 

The man stopped rubbing his shin all of a sudden and the change in both his expression and demeanor did not go unnoticed to Arya.

 

"What did m'lady say?"

 

Arya opened her mouth to say something else, but no words came out of it. _It can't be possible._ "What year is it?" She asked him.

 

He got a painful look on his face. "I . . . I can't remember," he said, "how long has it been since Aegon's Landing, m'lady?"

 

 _Fuck, no way._ "Um, a few years," she replied, trying not to scare him. If she had learned something from Old Nan's stories that was to never scare a time traveler, it could be dangerous. "How long have you been living here?"

 

"I– I can't remember that either, but I know I wasn't born here, I'm from King's Landing."

 

"I see," Arya bit her lip. "What is your name? if you don't mind telling me."

 

"I'm Gendry," he said with hesitation, as if he wasn't sure, "Gendry of the Hollow Hill, m'lady," he bowed at her.

 

"Why do you keep calling me like that? I'm not a lady!"

 

"You look like one to me, m'lady," he smiled, "your clothes are clean and well made, you have good shoes and you don't look hungry."

 

Arya looked at her clothes, there was nothing lady like about her outfit. There was nothing lady like about her appearance in general. "You should reconsider the definition of the word."

 

He moved closer to Arya and sniffed at her, "You smell nice, too. A lady always smells nice."

 

"Well you don't, you stink," she said, pushing him away from her.

 

"I'm a knight, not a lord, it's different for us."

 

"No matter what era you were born, you will always find excuses," she shook her head, "men!" Arya huffed.

 

He laughed and she smiled at him. His smiling face made him look younger and more handsome. He was nice to look at.

 

"When was the last time you talked to someone?" She asked him.

 

"I'm not sure, a long time ago," he told her. "Some kids came here once, they were dressed as witches, wizards, walkers and grumpkins for some reason. Something happened to them, I don't know what, but they were scared and I tried to help them," he continued talking, his gaze focused on his hands. "I'm a knight and knights are supposed to protect those who can't protect themselves, but the kids ran away as soon as they saw me, and I've been alone here since then," he finished, his voice was very sad.

 

 _He's not a time traveler, he's a ghost and he doesn't even know,_ she realized. 

 

Arya felt very sorry for him, being alone and stuck at the same place for years must have been horrible. She moved to stand by his side and, gently, placed her hand over one of his. He flinched at her touch and she immediately took her hand back.

 

"I'm sorry," she apologized.

 

"Don't be," he said, looking shy. "It feels weird being touched after all this time," he slowly reached for her hand and held it softly, "this soft little thing is full of warmth," he chuckled, "I had almost forgotten how nice it was, feeling warm," he held her hand close to his chest and rubbed her knuckles with his thumb.

 

Their eyes met for a moment and Arya felt her cheeks getting red. As crazy as it sounded, there was something oddly familiar about him, like she had seen him before, or perhaps he just reminded her of someone.

 

Arya looked closely at his eyes. They were a deep shade of blue, but there was no shine, no reflection in them, and then she remembered why.

 

"When you asked me if I was one of them, who were you talking about?" Arya asked him, breaking the silence.

 

He sighed, letting go of her hand, and sat on top of the work table. "Lannister men, Freys, what is left of the Bloody Mummers. . . "

 

"Bloody Mummers," Arya repeated in a whisper, a scowl on her face marked her pensive look. "Oh, I know who they are!" She exclaimed, happy to have finally remembered. Unlike her brother Bran, Arya had never been a History fan, except for the Dornish one, that was less male centric and boring, but this she sort of remembered. "Mr. Luwin told us about them during the last semester, they did some really terrible things, but most of them were captured and killed, their leader, I forgot his name, got his hand and feet cut off, and the few that managed to escape did not meet a happy ending either. Supposedly, there was a group of outlaws and . . ." she went quiet once she noticed his expression and his hands balled into tight fists.

 

"The Brotherhood without Banners," he said.

 

"Yes, the Brotherhood," Arya felt something weird at the bottom of her stomach. The band of outlaws was not only part of Old Nan's legends, they had been real.

 

"I'm not going to ask you how you know so much, but tell me, do you know what happened to the children?"

 

Arya bit her lip. "Is that why you are here? You can't leave until you find them?"

 

"I believe so, yes," he rubbed his forehead with his fingertips. "I can't go looking for them, there's something that stops me from leaving this damn forge, and you are the first person who comes here in a long time. Please, m'lady, you have to help me, tell me if you know what happened to them."

 

"I– I really don't know anything about them, most historians don't really care about telling the stories of those at the bottom of the food chain."

 

"The food chain?"

 

"Ignore that," she shook her head, "what I mean is that history is written by the winners and most of the time, the winners, good or bad, don't pay much attention to the biggest victims of war: children, women, the elderly," she listed, "especially if they are poor."

 

"The inn was filled with orphans who had lost their families in the most cruel ways," he said, his face masked with anger and sadness.

 

"The inn?"

 

He nodded. "There used to be an inn over there." He pointed towards the back of the forge, or perhaps it was the front it was hard to tell, to the same place where she had found the doll. "It was a meeting and resting point for many different people because of its location," he continued, "but the war and the constant lootings took the lives of most of its owners as well as the lives of those who visited it. We came here looking for someone, I can't remember who exactly, but when we couldn't find them, the Brotherhood decided to bring all the homeless orphans we had taken under our protection to this place. I remained here to protect the children, waiting . . ."

 

"Waiting for what?"

 

He frowned and shook his head desperately, "I don't know, no matter how much I try, I can't remember."

 

"Hold on, hold on," she repeated, stading up, "what was the inn called?"

 

"It had many names, but most people called it the Crossroads Inn," he said.

 

"Holy fucking shit," she cursed.

 

"Beg your pardon, m'lady?"

 

"It's real!" She exclaimed, putting two and two together.

 

"What is real?"

 

"An old story, some people believe it's a lie, others think it actually happened, the rest believe it's a mixture of fantasy and reality."

 

"What story is that?"

 

"There's a legend in the Riverlands about an inn being sacked and burned out of revenge, they say two young women and one man alone fought to defend it and protect the children who lived there. Most people believe it's a lie because it makes no sense to them that a group of children would be living alone in the inn, protected only by two girls and a teenage boy. Anyway, the story says that the children ran into the woods, escaping from the fire and the men who were trying to kill them, leaving their three guardians to fight on their own. When it looked like everything was lost, a massive pack of wolves appeared out of nowhere led by a monstrous she-wolf, they tore the men apart and feasted on their bodies."

 

"And the children?"

 

"They came back after the worst was over," she assured him.

 

"What happened to the young women?"

 

"I'm not sure, but I believe they survived."

 

He gulped. "And the boy?"

 

"Some say he was taken into the woods by the pack of wolves and was never seen again, others say he remained at the inn, waiting for the girl he loved to return."

 

"Arya," he whispered.

 

"Yes?"

 

"Her name was Arya," he said, a sad smile on his face, "the girl I loved, the girl I've been waiting for."

 

Arya's eyes went wide. It was just a coincidence, but still, she felt her stomach twist into a knot. "Have you ever heard the song The She-Wolf and The Bull?"

 

"No," he said.

 

Arya smiled. "Then I have something that will make you happy, I think."

 

She took her phone out of her backpack and went through one of her music lists, searching for the song she had loved so much as a child.

 

"What is that?" He asked her.

 

"You'll see," she smiled at him. Arya pressed play and the old folk song began.

 

The lyrics talked about a highborn girl who had chosen to protect the smallfolk after she had returned from a long journey in some distant land. She roamed through the Riverlands, accompanied by an outlaw knight, and together they brought justice to those in need of it. Once their job was done, they got married and they traveled north, where they finally settled and became a legend.

 

When the music was over, Arya noticed two things. The atmosphere around them had changed dramatically and Gendry's eyes looked shiny, as if life had returned to him.

 

"She found me," he said softly, smiling.

 

"She did," she assured him, "and now you have to go back, you have to be there when she comes looking for you," she patted his shoulder a couple of times.

 

"Thank you, m'lady," he told her, taking her hand and kissing it. "I'll be grateful to you, always."

 

"Don't thank me," she smiled, "now go, don't waste more time."

 

Gendry nodded and turned around. The place that had been empty before was now occuppied by the inn and there were children playing in front of it, smiling and waving at him.

 

"Wait!"

 

"Yes, m'lady?"

 

Arya picked the rag doll from the ground and handed it to him. "I believe this belongs to Weasel?"

 

"It does," he laughed. "Goodbye, m'lady. I'll never forget you."

 

Arya felt tears pricking the back of her eyes. "I'll never forget you either."

 

She kept her gaze locked on him as he walked away, until Nymeria appeared by her side, barking as if her life depended on it. "Stop, Nymeria! You're gonna–" when she looked back in his direction, he was gone. "Goodbye," she whispered into the air.

 

The dog, however, wouldn't stop barking.

 

"Stop barking, Nymeria! Stop!" Arya yelled and she rubbed her eyes, her eyelids felt heavy for some reason and her head was starting to hurt.

 

"Miss, miss? Are you all right?"

 

She opened her eyes, but couldn't see much.

 

"What?"

 

"Are you hurt, miss?"

 

"Apart from a slight headache and my dog who's being a pain in my ass, not really," she said. "What happened?"

 

"I think you fell on your way down, the rocks are very slippery around here," the man told her, while he carefully lifted her head a little to place what she thought was a sweater underneath. "You have a very smart dog, she found me and led me all the way here and didn't stop barking until you woke up."

 

Arya smiled and tried to focus her blurry vision on her dog. "Thank you, Nymeria." The dog moved close to her and licked her face a couple of times, making her giggle. "I love you too, girl."

 

"Do you feel any pain, miss?"

 

She shook her head no slowly. _Was it all a dream?_ When her sight went back to normal and she could finally see the face of the stranger, Arya almost peed her pants.

 

The man looked exactly like the one from her dream, like Gendry.

 

"Please, tell me you are not a ghost," she said.

 

"What?" He chuckled, "I'm not."

 

"I'm not dead, right?"

 

He smiled and rubbed her cheek with the back of his index finger. "Can you feel that?"

 

"I can," she replied.

 

"Then I'm sure you are alive."

 

"Are you single?"

 

"I am," he laughed, her boldness seemed to amuse him.

 

"Good.

 

"What about you, miss . . . ?"

 

"I'm single and my name is Arya, and you better not call me miss again."

 

He chuckled. "Got it."

 

"What's your name?" She asked him.

 

"Gendry," he paused for a moment, as if he wasn't sure of his own name, "Gendry Hollowhill."

 

"I– I think I've lived this before."

 

"Huh?" He looked confused.

 

"Gendry?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"Don't leave me," she asked him, before passing out again.

 

He caressed her face and smiled at her. "Don't worry, m'lady, I won't."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of based on the prompt: "I’m a demon/spirit/entity some kids summoned and ditched, cause I scared the shit out of them, years ago. All I want to do is go home, but I’m stuck/trapped here. You’re the first person to come in here so will you get me home."
> 
> I think this was a Halloween/Day of the Dead/Past life combo fic and not a very good one, but eh, I do what I can.


	24. Three's a crowd

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little something about nothing.
> 
>  
> 
> For bookskitten, who wrote me a sweet drabble to cheer me up the other day.

 

"I have ready the list of all the movies we're gonna watch on our anti-prom night," Arya said happily, plopping herself on the large bed, "and this time we are definitely going to watch The Walkers," she added.

 

Shireen stood in front of the mirror, brushing her long, black hair in a way that it covered the left side of her face. "Um . . . Arya, about that," she stopped and turned around to face her friend, "I have to tell you something."

 

"What?"

 

"Promise you won't get mad at me."

 

Arya narrowed her eyes. "No."

 

"Arya, please!"

 

"Okay, okay, I promise," she said, not sounding very convinced.

 

"And promise me you won't hate me."

 

"Gods Shireen, what did you do? Are you going to prom with Joffrey or what?" Arya jokingly asked her best friend who went very quiet and refused to meet her eyes all of a sudden.

 

"Arya, I . . ."

 

She immediately stood up from the bed, wide eyes and mouth open. "Tell me you didn't!"

 

"I'm sorry, I didn't do it on purpose, I just couldn't say no."

 

"But with Joffrey of all people?!"

 

"What?"

 

"What what?"

 

"I'm not going with Joffrey! I wouldn't go anywhere with him!"

 

"Thank fuck!" Arya exclaimed. "Who asked you then?"

 

A slight blush appeared on Shireen's cheeks. "Devan," she said in a low, breathy whisper.

 

"Oh, that's good, that's great actually," she said and sat on the edge of the bed.

 

"I'm sorry, Arya," Shireen apologized again. "I know you think prom is stupid and I feel terrible for leaving you alone, but I really want to go."

 

Arya shrugged and kept her gaze glued to her shoes. "It's okay, you don't have to feel sorry, you did nothing wrong."

 

Shireen ran to sit by her friend's side. "You are not mad? Really?"

 

"Why should I be mad? There's nothing wrong with wanting to go to prom."

 

"But you always say prom is just an acceptable and glorified way to make some students feel like shit."

 

"Well, yes, but . . ." Arya bit her lip.

 

"But?"

 

Arya took a deep sigh and laid herself down on the bed. "Promise you won't make fun of me for what I'm about to tell you."

 

Shireen looked down at her friend and nodded once. "You know I won't."

 

"And promise me you won't tell anyone else, especially Bran and Rickon, they would never stop teasing me if they find out."

 

The black haired girl patted her friend on the leg and lay down next to her. "I promise."

 

Arya crossed her hands over her stomach and kept her gaze focused on the ceiling. "I wish someone would ask me to prom," she confessed, speaking the words as fast as possible.

 

Shireen smiled a little, sympathetic smile. "I thought Elmar asked you last week."

 

Arya scrunched up her nose and made a disgusted sound. "Only because his father asked him to, and that only happened because my mother spoke to him. She thinks I can't do better," she huffed. "I rather go with Hot Pie, Elmar looks like a rat."

 

Shireen bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. Contrary to what her friend claimed, she did have standards and Elmar did not fit in them. "Why don't you go with Hot Pie, then?

 

"I asked him, but he has a date already."

 

"What about Edric? We all know he has a little crush on you," Shireen poked her best friend on the arm.

 

"He won't ask me because he thinks I hate prom."

 

"Oh." Shireen stayed quiet for a moment, thinking. "I know!" She exclaimed, catching her friend's attention. "Ok, this is what we'll do."

 

Arya moved to rest on her side and face her friend.

 

"You don't need a partner to go to the prom and there's no rule that three people can't attend together, so you are coming with Devan and I, what do you say?" Shireen asked her excitedly.

 

"No, no way," Arya shook her head. "I won't ruin the night for you two."

 

"You won't ruin it, what are you talking about? I can dance with you and I'm sure Devan won't refuse to take you to the dance floor either."

 

"Shireen, I appreciate the offer, but really, it's not necessary," Arya assured her, giving her a smile. "Besides, the last thing I want to be in my life is a fucking third wheel," she laughed.

 

"Oh, stop it! You wouldn't be a third wheel, you would be . . . you would be . . . um . . ." Shireen frowned, trying to find the right word. "A spare tie, you would be a spare tie!"

 

Arya burst out laughing. "A spare tie? Gods, Shireen, you certainly know how to make your best friend feel better!"

 

"I'm sorry," she apologized, "I didn't mean it that way!"

 

Arya was clutching her stomach and tears were falling down her cheeks. "Don't be sorry, you silly, you always know how to make me feel better," she joked.

 

"I wish you would say yes and come with us," Shireen told her. "The more the merrier."

 

"You know what they say, _two's company, three's a crowd_ ," she smiled, shrugging her shoulders. "It's not the end of the world, I'll survive."

 

"You sure?"

 

"I'm sure," she nodded. "I confess I'm a little sad that I'll never get the chance to experience all the good and bad stuff about prom night, but I suppose that's my fault."

 

Shireen rubbed her friend's hand affectionately. "I'm sorry."

 

"Don't be, like I said, I'll survive." Arya smiled a cheeky smile, "I'll guess I'll have to live this experience through you, I'll call you every half an hour to see what it feels like."

 

"Oh . . ." Shireen looked a bit unsure, "okay."

 

"Shireen, I'm joking."

 

"You are? Thank R'hollor!"

 

They laughed until they heard a creaking sound.

 

"Who's there?" Arya asked out loud.

 

"It's nothing," Shireen assured her friend, "this old house makes more sounds than my father."

 

Arya was taken by surprise by her friend's sarcastic comment. "Gods, who are you and what did you do with my sweet friend?"

 

Shireen smiled. "I'm not as sweet as you think I am."

 

"I can see that now."

 

 

*

 

Arya said Shireen goodbye and got ready to walk home. The distance wasn't long and she usually enjoyed the walk, but still, Arya couldn't help but feel a bit lonely for some reason. She sighed and finally closed the heavy gate behind her.

 

"Need a ride home, kid?"

 

Arya rolled her eyes and cursed her shit luck. Out of all of Shireen's annoying and weird relatives, she had to meet the worst right at this moment.

 

"I'm not a kid, stupid, I'm seventeen."

 

Gendry Baratheon was a bullheaded university student and Shireen's older cousin. He was stupid and annoying and his favorite pastime was to tease Arya as much as he could. She had fancied herself in love with him as a little girl, but those days were long gone. 

 

"Sorry, m'lady, I couldn't tell since you are still so short."

 

"And you are still so dumb."

 

He laughed. Arya hated that none of her insults worked on him.

 

"So, wanna a ride home?"

 

"No, thank you, I can walk," she told him and started moving away from him.

 

"I think I need a bit of fresh air," he said and in three long strides he was walking by her side.

 

Arya gave him a sideways look, not knowing how to deal with his presence. "What do you want?"

 

"Your company."

 

"Yeah right," she snorted, "go pray to R'hollor or burn something," she dismissed him with a wave of her hand.

 

He laughed. "You are so hurtful, m'lady."

 

"Stop calling me that, stupid."

 

"Why?"

 

"Because it's annoying!"

 

"Well, you see, that's part of the appeal," he said.

 

"Stupid," Arya muttered and a tiny smile formed on her lips before she could stop it.

 

It didn't go unnoticed.

 

"Did m'lady just smile at me?"

 

"Absolutely not."

 

"Liar, I know what I saw."

 

"Whatever."

 

They walked quietly the rest of the way, giving each other quick glances, though Gendry kept poking her cheek now and then, trying to catch her attention. When they arrived at her home and he said nothing, Arya took it as a sign.

 

"Goodbye," was all she said.

 

"Arya."

 

That stopped her dead on her tracks, it was the first time he called her by her name. He had always had a nickname for her: m'lady, wolfie, kid, Arry, monkey, shortie, the list was endless. She turned around slowly, cautious, feeling a weird sensation in her stomach.

 

"Yes?"

 

He walked two steps closer to her, looking shy rather than stupid for the first time. "What are you doing next weekend?"

 

Arya felt a pang on her chest. This was exactly what he wanted, make fun of her for not having a date and not going to prom.

 

"I'm not going to prom because no one asked me, if that's what you wanted to hear," she told him, biting back tears. "Good night," she said last, turning around, fumbling on her pocket for her house keys.

 

"Arya," he called her again, reaching out for her hand.

 

"What?!" She turned around and pulled her hand out of his, looking upset.

 

"Since you are not going to prom, would you like to go on a date with me? I know it's not the same, but I promise you'll have fun."

 

"Is this a joke?"

 

"No, not at all."

 

"Why would you want to go on a date with me? You don't even like me."

 

"Who says I don't like you? I like you better than anyone!"

 

"You do? Why? Since when?" She asked him, looking incredulous.

 

"Since the first time I saw you."

 

She snorted. "Pfft! I find that hard to believe."

 

"You don't believe me?" he smiled, "I'll show you then." He reached out for her hand, pulling her into his strong arms, and pressed a soft kiss on her lips, taking her by surprise. "I like you, Arya," he told her once more, feeling content, but he soon began to worry when she didn't say anything, not even an insult. "Arya? Are you okay?" He asked her, worried he had been too harsh. He started to lose his hold on her, scared by her lack of reaction, but she quickly wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him down for another kiss.

 

A wet sound and a groan from Arya put an end to their kiss.

 

"So, would you rather go to prom or go on a date with me?" he asked her, sounding a bit smug.

 

"Screw prom," she said smiling, "this is better than that."

 

He laughed and wrapped his arms tighter around her, pulling her up his body to kiss her again.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loosely based on the prompt: "Muse B is almost finished with high school, but has never been asked to prom, and is too shy to ask anyone else. To friends, B pretends it’s not a big deal, claiming that prom is dumb, but one night B confesses to their closest friend that they’re very depressed that their last chance to have that experience has passed. That friend’s older sibling is Muse A, who overhears the conversation. A goes to a different school than B, and A’s prom is the following week. What does A do?"


	25. It's only make believe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You better get some nachos because there's a lot of cheese in this.
> 
>  
> 
> Don't pay attention to the awful grammar. :)

 

Arya was very excited about the prospect of spending the evening and part of the night playing videogames with Gendry and pigging out on all sorts of junk food. It had always been one of their favorite ways of wasting their free time on lazy days, but since Arya's fencing lessons had become much more serious and Gendry had gotten more hours at his job, not to mention they were both busy with school, their chances of getting together to act like slots had been reduced significantly.

 

But today was different and Arya was rocking on her feet, waiting excitedly for Gendry to open the door of his apartment.

 

"Hey," he greeted her with a grin.

 

"Hello!" Arya smiled at him, lifting her arms to show him what she had brought. "I took all the good stuff from the pantry," she said, showing him two large bags filled with all kinds of chips and candy.

 

"Great, come in," he told her.

 

Arya kicked off her boots and dropped the bags on the coffee table. "So, what are gonna play first? Return of the Night's King? Walkers versus Wildlings? Dothraki Invasion II?"

 

"Um, about that, I have to tell you something."

 

"What is it?" She asked him, getting comfortable on the couch.

 

"I-" but he was interrupted before he could explain.

 

"Who is she, Gendry?" A little girl poked her head from behind the couch taking Arya by surprise.

 

He fought back a smile as he saw Arya jumping in fear, she tried to hide it, but he noticed it anyway.

 

Arya turned around slowly and found herself face to face with a cute, tiny version of Gendry.

 

 _This is how our children will look like,_ she thought. _What the fuck, brain?!_

 

"Hello," the little girl said.

 

"Hello," Arya replied.

 

"What's your name?"

 

"Arya. What's yours?"

 

"Barra." The girl wasted no time. "Are you Gendry's girlfriend?"

 

 _I wish._ "Um, no, I'm his friend."

 

"A girlfriend is a kind of friend, why aren't you his girlfriend?" She questioned, tilting her head a little.

 

"Okay, that's enough," Gendry interrupted Barra's sneaky questionnaire, afraid his little sister could ask or, worse, say too much. "This is what I wanted to talk about," he told Arya, sitting by her side on the couch.

 

The girl rested her chin on one of the cushions, glancing back and forth between them, as Gendry told Arya what had happened.

 

"Mhaegen had to take an extra shift at the bar, she had no one to babysit Barra, so she asked me to help her and I couldn't say no," Gendry finished, winking at Barra who gave his half brother a big, toothy smile.

 

"Oh . . ." was all she said, trying not to sound too disappointed. "It's okay, we can still have fun."

 

"Sorry," Gendry looked apologetic.

 

"Don't be," she shrugged.

 

He poked her softly in the stomach a couple of times, trying to put a smile on her face, or better yet, a frown. Pissed off Arya was his favorite Arya.

 

"What are you doing?" She scowled.

 

"Ah, that's much better," he said.

 

"Stupid," she muttered, a tiny smile curving the corners of her mouth.

 

"So, what should we do first?" He asked them.

 

"I know!" The little girl exclaimed, jumping with excitement. "Wait here, don't move!" And she took off in direction of Gendry's bedroom.

 

"She looks exactly like you," Arya told him, keeping her voice low.

 

"You know what they say, _the seed is strong_ ," he rolled his eyes.

 

"Yeah, but you Baratheons took it to a whole different level."

 

"I'm not a Baratheon," he frowned.

 

"I know," she said, moving closer so she could elbow him softly, "you know what I mean."

 

"I guess."

 

They went quiet and looked behind them as they heard Barra's steps getting closer. The little girl came back wearing a puffy, pink, tulle skirt, holding an sparkly magic wand and dragging a unicorn print backpack behind her.

 

She stood in front of them, dropping the backpack on the floor, and looked at them in silence for a moment. Narrowed eyes and a soft scowl were the marks of some serious deep thinking.

 

"Okay," she finally said with a sigh. "Gendry, you are going to be the knight. Arya, you will play the princess," she directed them, "and I'm going to be the fairy godmother because the magic wand is mine and it's my favorite."

 

They both laughed at the girl's honesty.

 

"Could I be the evil witch instead?" Arya asked her.

 

Barra shook her head energetically. "No no, you can't be!"

 

"Why not?"

 

"You are too pretty to play the evil witch," the little girl assured her.

 

Arya snorted. "Well, thank you very much, Barra," she said happily, "you are one of the few people who believe me pretty," she joked, pretending to wipe tears from her dry eyes.

 

"Who are these people?" She asked curiously.

 

"My father and my brother Jon," Arya replied with soft expression on her face.

 

Gendry gave Arya a tender look. He was well aware of the very special place Arya's father and favorite brother held in her heart. He also knew very well how hard Arya had fought -and still continued fighting- to overcome her insecurities with respect to her looks. It's especially difficult when your own family attacks your appearance and personality, but Arya had learned, little by little, to appreciate the beauty of her mind and body.

 

He had gotten a bit lost in his own thoughts and admiration of her pretty, long face, but was quickly brought back to reality when he heard Barra's next comment.

 

"Oh, but they are not the only ones," she told Arya, "Gendry thinks you are pretty, too! He told me!"

 

"Barra!" He exclaimed, looking at his baby sister with wide, open eyes, completely mortified.

 

To hide her own feelings, Arya decided a little bit of teasing was the way to go.

 

"Oh, so your brother thinks I'm pretty, huh?," she said and Barra nodded, "do you really think so, Gendry?" She asked him with a wolfish grin.

 

"I . . . um . . . yeah, you are," he finally admited and sighed, "very pretty," he added in a low whisper, refusing to meet her eyes for fear of what he could find in them. 

 

If he had paid attention, however, he would have seen the loving look she was giving him.

 

"Can we start playing now?" Barra asked them, interrupting the moment.

 

"Sure!" Arya said.

 

Barra fumbled with the contents of her backpack and pulled out a small, plastic sword. "Gendry, this is for you, be careful you don't cut yourself," she warned him with total seriousness.

 

"I won't," he chuckled.

 

"Arya, this is yours," she handed her a crown adorned with leaves made out of fabric and plastic acorns, "put it on!" she excitedly asked her.

 

Arya did as she was told.

 

"So, how do I look? Do I look like a princess now?"

 

"Yeah!" Barra nodded.

 

The little girl continued explaining the plot of their little role play. The knight had to fight a feral, red scaled dragon in order to rescue the princess, who had been put under a spell and locked away for years in the tower of an ancient castle. With the help of the extremely beautiful and clever fairy god mother, the knight would be able to find the castle, kill the dragon and rescue the princess.

 

The coat rack that Gendry had made some years before would serve as the dragon. They put a red blanket over it and they were good to go.

 

"Okay, Arya, now you have to lay on the couch and close your eyes," Barra asked her.

 

"I can't believe I wanted to play the evil witch," Arya said, making herself comfortable. "A throne isn't as comfy as a good old couch."

 

"Shh!" Barra shushed her. "Close you eyes, you are supposed to be asleep."

 

"I'm already enjoying this game."

 

"Stop talking!" Barra reprimanded her.

 

"Barra!" Gendry called for his sister's attention. "Be nice."

 

The little girl, however, paid no attention to his brother's warning. "Go to your place, Gendry!"

 

"Yes, boss." He couldn't stop himself from laughing, his sister took role playing very seriously.

 

 

*

 

 

Their little play went by quickly and smoothly. They only stopped so Barra could take a potty break and before the last act, once they realized Arya had actually fallen asleep. Barra had tried to wake her up, claiming princesses were not supposed to snore, but Gendry stopped her and convinced her to let her sleep.

 

"It's better this way, don't you think?" He whispered to his sister. "Makes it more believable."

 

"But she kind of sounds like a pig, Gendry."

 

He snorted, biting back a laugh. "Let's see if my kiss wakes her up, okay?" He asked Barra, kneeling by the side of the couch.

 

The girl smiled prettily, excited to presence the most important part of the story.

 

"Wake up, princess," he whispered softly, before leaning down to press a peck on her lips. He had to take advantage of the opportunity.

 

He was only a hair's breadth away from her mouth when Barra stopped him by placing her small hand against his forehead, pushing his face up and away from Arya's.

 

"What are you doing?" She muttered, shaking her head.

 

"Trying to wake her up?"

 

"You were going to kiss her on the mouth!" She looked completely scandalized.

 

"Uh, isn't that how it works? The knight has to kiss the princess on the lips to break the spell?"

 

"Oh Gendry," the little girl rolled her eyes and smiled smugly, "it's only make believe, you don't have to kiss her for real," she told him, patting him softly in the back.

 

"But what if I want to kiss her for real?"

 

"Uh-uh," she shook her head again, "not while she's asleep, what if you take her first kiss? It wouldn't be fair!"

 

Gendry felt incredibly proud of his little sister. "Yeah, I believe you are right."

 

"You can kiss her all you want when you get married," she added.

 

"I can't wait that long."

 

Barra only shrugged her shoulders.

 

He smiled and pinched her chin softly. "Am I allowed to give her a peck on the cheek at least?"

 

"Yeah."

 

He leaned down again and moved his head in a way that would block his sister's sight. He pressed a sneaky kiss on the corner of Arya's mouth and sucked very softly on it for a second. As he pulled away from her face, he tickled her lightly on her side, trying to wake her up, and it worked.

 

Arya groaned and stretched herself, blinking and smiling once she saw Gendry's silly expression.

 

Barra started jumping and running around the small living room, yelling happily that the spell had been broken and that the princess and the knight could finally live happily forever.

 

"What did I miss?" She rubbed her eyes with her fingertips.

 

"Not much." Gendry caressed one side of her face tenderly and smiled.

 

At the feel of his touch, Arya moved her hand away from her eyes to place it over his and smiled back. They locked eyes for a moment, looking at each other with shy and loving expressions. They were sharing a special moment, they both could feel it.

 

The moment, however, did not last long as it was interrupted by Arya's loud and hungry stomach.

 

"Classic," Gendry said.

 

"Shut up," Arya stuck her tongue out at him, a light blush on her cheeks.

 

"Can we order pizza? Oh please, Gendry!" Barra asked.

 

"Sure we can!"

 

 

*

 

 

"The pizza is here!" Barra exclaimed, clapping excitedly.

 

Gendry stood up quickly as they heard the knocks, picking his wallet from the coffee table on his way to the door. He opened it, almost tasting the pizza, but it wasn't the delivery guy waiting on the other side.

 

"Hello!" Mhaegen greeted him with a tired smile.

 

"Hey, finished early?"

 

"Yes, thank the gods, my feet are killing me," she chuckled, "how is my daughter? did she give you a lot of trouble?"

 

"Not at all," he assure her.

 

"Great," she sounded relieved. "Here, I brought these for you as a thank you gift," she smiled.

 

"You shouldn't have," Gendry shook his head.

 

"Yes, I should," she told him and held out two medium sized boxes. "I know how much you like this, Barra told me," she laughed.

 

Gendry smiled and placed his wallet on his back pocket, taking the boxes from her hands. "I really do like these pastries, thank you," he said, stepping to the side to let her in.

 

"Mommy!" Barra ran straight into her mother's arms.

 

"Hello, princess, did you have fun?"

 

The girl nodded.

 

"Good," she pressed a kiss on her daughter's forehead. "Oh, hello," Mhaegen said as she noticed Arya's presence.

 

"Hello," Arya waved at her.

 

"Oh, mommy, this is Arya," the girl informed her, "she's Gendry's friend but she's not his girlfriend," she clarified.

 

"Barra!"

 

While Arya and Gendry laughed at the little girl's antics, Mhaegen was busy scolding her.

 

After a quick chat and much to Barra's disappointement, they had to leave. Barra loved pizza, but she loved her mother even more and she could tell she was very tired, so she did not put up a fight when her mother told her they had to go.

 

As they were saying their goodbyes, Barra pulled on Arya's hand and gestured so she could whisper something on her ear.

 

"Gendry keeps a picture of you on his wallet, I think he likes you," the little girl confessed to her with a sweet little giggle.

 

Arya smiled with pleasure, it felt nice knowing that, perhaps, her feelings were reciprocated. "Thank you, Barra," she told her, winking at her.

 

Barra winked back and moved to stand by her mother's side. "Next time we play," she said, "we'll be the knights who rescue the prince from the dragon, okay?"

 

"I would love that," Arya replied.

 

Gendry and Arya said their farewells and went inside the apartment. She closed the door and turned around slowly, grinning like a mad woman.

 

"What's with the face?" Gendry questioned her with a smile.

 

Arya curved one of her eyebrows and kept her eyes on him, moving closer to where he was standing.

 

"What?" He asked with a nervous laugh.

 

Arya didn't reply, just kept walking towards him.

 

"Arya?"

 

She stopped right in front of him, keeping a minimum distance between.

 

"What- what did Barra tell you? I saw she whispered something in your ear."

 

Arya didn't say anything, just moved her arms to place them around him. Gendry went very still and quiet. She pressed her hands against his back and kept moving them lower and lower until she stuffed them inside his back pockets.

 

Gendry eyes went wide, but he still couldn't say anything. He just kept gulping, looking straight into her eyes.

 

Arya's smile went from scary to mischievous. "Let me see if what she said is true."

 

And she took his wallet and ran away from him. Gendry seemed to understand what was happening.

 

"Arya, give it back!"

 

"No!"

 

"You little . . ." He kept trying to catch her, but couldn't. His apartment wasn't spacious at all, but somehow, she managed to run and jump away from him as if they were in the middle of an open field.

 

"I'm sorry, I can't!" She said, as she went quickly through the contents of his wallet. When she managed to find the picture, she smiled and finally threw it at him, "Barra didn't lie!" she exclaimed and laughed out loud, running into his room to hide inside his bathroom.

 

"That won't help you!" He caught his wallet and pushed her into his bed, falling on top of her.

 

They were both laughing and calling each other names, poking and tickling each other. After some time, they had to make a small pause to catch their breaths, but they kept looking at each other, smiling like idiots.

 

"This is so much better than playing Dothraki Invasion II, don't you think?" she asked him, rubbing his upper arms.

 

"Definitely," he smiled and leaned down to kiss her.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by the prompt: "A’s little sibling forces A and B to have a tea party with them deeming A the princess and B the knight in shining armor."


	26. What is fantasy and what is real

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a short story to start the holiday season.
> 
>  
> 
> Sequel to A pretty she-wolf. 
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Three months had passed since the wolf girl had appeared out of nowhere and became a part of his life. Three months of ups and downs, of sleepless nights, of joy and frustration, but above all, of an incredible and unexpected happiness.

 

Three months of constantly fucking each other senseless, too.

 

Gendry had never known how sore muscles actually felt like until he had Arya on top of him all night and day. He wasn't complaining, of course, but some days he wished he was made out of rubber or steel so he wouldn't feel the pain while he worked at the garage.

 

She, on the other hand, could be at it for hours without giving herself the time to catch her own breath. Gendry often wondered if her animalistic nature had a part to play in her never ending energy and hunger for sex.

 

Again, he wasn't complaining, just wishing he could share her stamina.

 

Today, the day before the Feast of the Seven, it was one of those rare occasions when she was content to be on top of him without having him _in_ her.

 

They had just returned from having dinner at Sharna's and were now happily cuddling on the couch, resting and watching one of the classic comedies of the holidays: _Robert the Red-Nosed Reindeer._

 

She was sitting comfortably on his lap, resting her head on his shoulder and wearing nothing but one of his sweatshirts and underwear. It had taken him forever to convince her of wearing panties, so this was a small victory for him. She usually went bare or wore one of his boxers, claiming they were more comfortable than those tight undergarments he made her wear, something that Gendry found both endearing and very unhygienic.

 

Arya was busy lazily running her thin fingers over his naked chest, tracing patterns on his skin, as he held her close to him, rubbing her legs softly up and down. Gendry couldn't believe he had lived without this, without her, for so long.

 

"I don't understand," she said curiously, "why is his nose red?"

 

"Huh?" Gendry had missed her question, he was a bit too focused on the feel of her warm skin against the rough palm of his hand.

 

"The reindeer," she told him, "why is his nose red?" she asked him again.

 

"Oh, that," he chuckled, "well, lets say that once Septon Mericlaus decided to change his ways, it was his reindeer who got to fill his belly with beer."

 

She frowned. "That's stupid," she said, "animals don't drink beer."

 

"It _is_ stupid, that's what makes it funny and the reason why the movie is still so popular after all these years," he explained.

 

She huffed, "I don't get it."

 

He smiled and pressed a kiss to her forehead. "You will, eventually."

 

They continued to watch the movie in silence, only stopping for a quick kiss or a bathroom break. They eventually lay down on the couch, snuggled under a thick blanket, with Gendry tightly wrapped around her, one of his legs between hers, his hand caressing softly the skin of her belly.

 

"Does Mericlaus give presents to all the children?"

 

"No," he replied, sounding a bit sleepy, "only to those who behaved well the year before."

 

"But the children in the movie are a bunch of brats, except for the little girl."

 

"Well yeah, he's not the best judge of character," he chuckled softly.

 

"Will the kids living upstairs get presents, too?"

 

"They probably will, if their parents want to live in peace for the rest of the year."

 

"But they are horrible, Gendry!" She exclaimed angrily, turning around in his embrace to look at him, "I saw them throwing rocks to the orange cat the other day, they only stopped because I yelled at them," she sounded completely offended, "why would this stupid Mericlaus and his drunk reindeer bring presents to children like them?"

 

Gendry smiled, his eyes were closing little by little. "I'll explain that to you tomorrow, okay? don't worry too much," he asked her.

 

"But-"

 

"Shh, come here," he said, pulling her even closer to him, "sleep."

 

"No, I want to see how the movie ends," she told him, turning around once more.

 

"Okay, but don't forget to turn it off when it's over," he pressed a kiss below her ear and finally closed his eyes.

 

"I won't," she whispered, focusing on the screen again.

 

 

*

 

 

Gendry woke up to a feeling of cold emptiness and when he looked at his side, he noticed Arya was no longer there. He rubbed his eyes and stretched, hoping she was taking a shower or eating something in the kitchen and not getting into trouble.

 

He stood up and put on his t-shirt and walked towards the bathroom to relieve himself.

 

The silence was slightly worrisome, but he hoped Arya was still inside the apartment at least.

 

After he finished washing up, he rushed to put on some shoes, afraid she was outside trying to hunt -again- the squirrels that lived in the nearby park. He had no wish of spending half of his check on more fines.

 

He first went to check on the kitchen and was relieved and surprised to find her where she was, sitting outside in the fire scape, right in front of the window and holding a knife on her hand.

 

 _Gods, I hope she's not trying to kill more pigeons,_ he worried. _Fuck, I hope no one has seen her!_ "Arya, what in Seven Hells are you doing? come back inside!" he exclaimed, poking his head out of the other window.

 

"No, I'm waiting for stupid Mericlaus and I won't miss him! I've been waiting for him for hours, the fat ass is probably stuck somewhere, or perhaps his drunk reindeer got lost on the way," she said angrily.

 

"What?"

 

"Go away, I'll be fine," she dismissed him.

 

"Arya, if the neighbors see you sitting outside my window holding a knife, they will probably think you want to rob or kill me and then they will call the police and they will lock you up, is that what you want?"

 

She heaved a deep sigh. "Fine, I'll keep the knife hidden," she told him, tucking the knife into her sleeve. "Happy now?" she asked him.

 

 _Gods, she's beautiful and exhausting,_ he thought. "I won't be happy until you come inside," he said, "why do you need a knife anyway?"

 

"Have you seen the size of that stupid reindeer?" she questioned him. "If reindeers are as tasty as stags are, then we definitely want to keep him with us, it will feed us all through winter," she told him with a wolfish grin.

 

 _I chaged my mind, she's beautiful and scary._ "Look Arya, we need to talk, come here," he asked her once more.

 

"Talk about what?"

 

"About what is fantasy and what is real."

 

"Are you going to tell me Mericlaus isn't real? Like the tooth fairy and the mermaids?"

 

"Exactly."

 

"So that means the little shits upstairs won't get presents?"

 

She was moving inside the window, so Gendry knew the smart choice would be telling her a white, little lie.

 

"That's right."

 

She smiled contentedly and finally got inside the kitchen, moving on her knees and legs over the counter.

 

"You told me adults get presents, too, was that a lie as well?"

 

"Not entirely," he assured her, "want to see what I got for you?"

 

She nodded excitedly.

 

He gave her a mischievous smile and swept her up in his arms, running towards their bedroom.

 

"What are you doing, stupid?" she laughed.

 

"Didn't you say something about wanting a pup of our own? we can start working on it right now."

 

"Really?" She asked him with a hopeful whisper, her beautiful grey eyes wide with anticipation.

 

"Really," he reassured her and pressed a kiss on her cheek.

 

Arya smiled a rare, shy smile and buried her face on his neck. "Happy Feast of the Seven, Gendry," she mumbled into the warmth of his skin.

 

"Happy Feast of the Seven, she-wolf," he said, before laying her down gently on the bed.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loosely based on the prompt: Imagine Person A sitting Person B down to explain Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, Frosty the Snowman, and/or Santa Claus, which Person B has never heard of (the reason is up to you). However, Person A is doing a terrible job of explaining. (Bonus: Person A wakes up on Christmas morning to find Person B sitting by the chimney with a shotgun.)
> 
> In case you didn't get the reference, Septon Meribald = Septon Mericlaus aka my Westerosi version of Santa. Don't judge me.


	27. Winter Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Took me longer than usual to update and my muse is to blame.
> 
> I hope you enjoy this, it's nothing special, but I really wanted to post another story before the year ends.

 

 

_**Snow** _

 

There were many things Arya Stark loved about her home. She loved how the stone walls matched the color of her eyes, she loved how the floors were warm even during the coldest winter days, she loved how big it was and how every room in it had a story to tell. However, what she loved the most were all the hiding spots and secret passages that existed all over the house and that she had discovered during the past few years, as her mother's reprimands grew more frequent and Sansa's and Jeyne's teasing became more unbearable.

 

They were good places if one wanted to get away from people or just to spend some time in peace.

 

Today was one of those days in which Arya was hiding out of pleasure and naughtiness.

 

A couple of weeks before, Miss Mordane caught her reading _Nymeria the Warrior Queen_ during her Etiquette and Manners class and took her book away. As always, Miss Mordane wasted no time to call Arya's mother with the sole purpose of making sure she would get a proper punishment at home.

 

And she had. Her mother raided her room before she came back from school and confiscated all the books and magazines that she deemed improper and not suited for a young lady. Arya yelled, wept and kicked to get her things back, but her mother didn't care. She had never cared much for the things that made Arya happy.

 

Arya went to her father looking for a solution, but he did not whish to upset her mother even more. He pressed a kiss to her forehead and told her he would think of something.

 

Arya couldn't understand her mother most of the time. She had been the one who told her she needed to read more, forcing and almost shoving books into her hands, and now that she was actually enjoying herself, her mother decided to take them away from her. It didn't make sense. It wasn't fair.

 

Some days later, Jon sneaked into her room before she went to sleep and surprised her with a wonderful gift. He had bought her three more books: _The Legend of Wenda the White Fawn, Dark Sister_ and a new copy of _Nymeria the Warrior Queen._ Arya had never loved her brother as much as she did in that moment. She jumped off the bed and ran into her brother's arms and showered him with kisses.

 

"But how?" She asked him. "You don't have any money!" She was worried, she knew Jon didn't get the allowance she and her other siblings got. Her mother had made sure of that.

 

Jon only smiled. "Don't worry, little sister," he calmed her. "It was all courtesy of father," he assured her, winking at her.

 

After that, Arya learned her lesson and now she kept all her books hidden in places where no one but her could find them. All her secret spots were slowly but surely getting filled with all her treasures and today, the secret compartment behind the bookcase in the drawing room was serving as her very own library.

 

She had been completely immerse reading about the possible whereabouts of Dark Sister when she heard footsteps and hushed voices approaching, she went very still, afraid someone would discover where she was and what she was doing.

 

"I can't believe you did this, Ned."

 

It was her parents.

 

Arya put her book down and turned off her flashlight.

 

"Cat, listen to me."

 

"No, you listen to me."  She knew the different tones of her mother's voice better than anyone. She knew she wanted to raise her voice but wouldn't. It wasn't proper. "You are bringing another bastard into my home." Arya cringed. She hated that word, bastard. She hated Sansa every time she called Jon that way, especially when she did it in front of others, but hearing it from her mother's lips was different, it was actually painful. "Is one Snow not enough for you?"

 

"Cat, this boy is a Waters."

 

"What difference does it make? He could be a Sand, a Storm, a Rivers, people will talk anyway and they will mock me."

 

"They won't."

 

Her mother let out a snort. Arya had never heard her mother make such an unlady like sound.

 

"Yes, they will. I still hear their whispers now and then."

 

"Tell me who, I'll make them stop."

 

Her mother laughed softly at her father's suggestion.

 

"I can fight my own battles. I won't give them the pleasure of knowing how their words hurt me."

 

"Cat . . ."

 

"I just wished you had told me before."

 

"I'm sorry, everything happened so quickly, Jon barely had the time to take the boy out of King's Landing."

 

"But why send him here? Why couldn't he send the boy to Stannis or Renly?"

 

"Jon doesn't trust Renly and he thinks the boy won't be safe in Stannis' hands."

 

"But he trusts you with his safety?"

 

"He does."

 

"Because you are so honorable."

 

Arya caught a light tone of sarcasm in her mother's voice.

 

"And loyal," her father added.

 

"You are loyal and honorable to the point of blindness."

 

"Perhaps," her father said. "Jon is my second father and he wants me to keep this child safe and I will."

 

"And it doesn't matter if his presence harms your family."

 

"Cat, he's just a boy, not a monster."

 

"Very well. I'll have the maids prepare a room for him in the fourth floor."

 

"With the servants?"

 

"With the people of his station."

 

"He will sleep in the room next to Jon and that's an order."

 

"I don't want this boy sleeping close to the girls, we don't know how he was raised!"

 

Her father heaved a deep sigh.

 

"Very well, have one of the rooms in the third floor ready for him, the one next to the library," her father said, "it's the warmest, the boy is not used to the cold."

 

_The hidden stairs in my closet connect with that room,_ was Arya's first and only thought before her mother spoke again.

 

"Should I prepare a welcome party as well?"

 

" _Cat._ "

 

Arya knew that tone as well. It was the one her father used when he had had enough, it was a warning. He used it every time she and her sister got into one of their big fights.

 

"I'm sorry."

 

It was an empty apology, she knew those very well too.

 

"I'm going to pick up the boy, I hope everything is settled when I return."

 

"Yes, my lord."

 

Arya listened to her father's footsteps as he walked away and heard when he opened the door, but then the sounds stopped.

 

"Cat."

 

"Yes?"

 

"I don't want to hear you call Jon that way again. He might not have my name, but he has my blood. I love you, but he is my son and I love him too."

 

Her father closed the door and Arya couldn't help but smile, she wanted to run into his arms and thank him for defending Jon, but her smile quickly disappeared as she heard her mother's soft sobs. She wanted to get out of her hidden spot and make her feel better, hug her and kiss her like a proper lady would, but she didn't move, she knew her mother would not welcome her presence at a time like this, so she stayed quiet and continued listening to her mother's sobs until she left the room.

 

 

_**Snowman** _

 

Arya had been sneaking into the boy's room since the day he arrived. She wanted to make him feel welcome and she knew none of her siblings would be willing to risk her mother's anger, so she took up the challenge.

 

After a very short and awkward first meeting in the foyer, Arya learned that his name was Gendry. He was the same age as Jon and Robb and taller than both. He had a thick mop of black hair and the bluest eyes she had ever seen. He kept his head down the whole time and didn't say a word unless someone spoke to him first. Arya smiled thinking how such a large boy could be so shy and scared, but then she took a look at her mother's expression and immediately understood why he looked that way.

 

As soon as her father left with Gendry to take him to his room, her mother warned Arya and her siblings to stay away from him. That, of course, only helped to increase her curiosity.

 

What could be so bad about this boy?

 

The first night she only caught a glimpse of him as he slept. The second night she came earlier, so she could introduce herself, it was the proper thing to do since her mother had barely given her the chance to say hello.

 

She arrived just as he was putting on some pajamas.

 

"Hello."

 

The boy almost jumped out of his skin.

 

"M'lady, what are you doing here? If your father finds you here he will have my head!"

 

Arya smiled. "Relax," she told him calmly, "he never comes here and they all think I'm sleeping, he won't know."

 

"H-How did you get in here, m'lady?" He asked her, looking nervously around him. "I'm sure I locked the door."

 

Arya bit her lip. _Should I tell him?_ For some reason, Arya felt she could trust him. "I'll show you," she told him. She took his big hand in her small one and pulled him behind her, leading him inside the dressing room.

 

She stopped in front of closet and opened the doors. "Look," she said, moving the few clothes that were hanged to the side, and pointed to a thin, barely visible groove running along the right side of the back of the closet. She placed her fingertips on it and slid it to the left. "See?" She asked him, smiling mischievously.

 

There was a set of stairs behind the fake wall.

 

"Oh . . ." Was all he said.

 

That was two weeks ago and he still acted like an scared little boy in her presence.

 

They were sitting side by side on his large bed. His back was stiff as a board, his hands were glued to each other on top of his lap and he still refused to meet her eyes. Arya was getting tired of his attitude. She was not her mother.

 

"You don't want to be my friend?" She asked him.

 

"I'm just an armorer's apprentice, I-"

 

"And?" She interrupted him, rolling her eyes. "Mycah is my one of my best friends and he's the son of a butcher, what's so wrong about being an apprentice?

 

"I'm a bastard, too," he whispered the words, a deep frown marking his face.

 

Arya punched him hard on the arm, looking offended on his behalf. "So? My brother Jon is one too, and I love him best of all, just say you don't want to be my friend, you don't have to lie!"

 

She stood up to leave, but he held her back.

 

"I'm sorry, m'lady, I didn't mean to offend you and your brother," he apologized, looking at her for the very first time.

 

Arya smiled, not letting go of his hand, and sat by his side again. "Are we friends now?"

 

He nodded his head once and gave her the shiest smile she had ever seen. "Yes, m'lady."

 

Arya elbowed him playfully on the stomach. "Don't call me that."

 

"What should I call you, m'lady?"

 

"Arya, stupid, just Arya."

 

"Arya Stupid?"

 

Arya smiled and shoved him into the bed with all her strenght. "Don't be so dumb!" She laughed.

 

Gendry laughed too and before they knew, they were wrestling each other on top of his bed.

 

The fight ended up in a tie and they lay side by side over the messy covers trying to catch their breaths.

 

"Gendry, have you ever played in the snow?" She asked him as soon as she was able to talk again.

 

"Never," he said, breathing fast, "it doesn't snow where I come from."

 

"Really? Not even a little?"

 

"Not even a little snowflake."

 

Arya frowned, that sounded awful to her. "That's terrible!"

 

"It's not so bad," he shrugged.

 

"But how can you have snowfights without snow? And snowman building contests?"

 

"Well, we just don't, some people build sand castles, though."

 

"That doesn't sound fun," she said.

 

"I wouldn't know, I never got the chance to go to the beach and play."

 

Arya gasped. "Never?"

 

He looked at her and shook his head, smiling sadly. "Never. My mom said she would take me, but she got sick and, well, she couldn't."

 

Arya moved to rest on her side and placed her hand over one of his. "Don't worry, I'll teach you how to build snow castles and snowmen, I promise you the snow is a lot more fun than the sand."

 

 

_**Snowball fight** _

 

Catelyn Stark always procured to spend a quiet moment by herself after a busy morning or a stressful day. She loved the tranquility and silence of her private chamber, the one her husband had made especially for her after she moved into Winterfell. She enjoyed the scents of her favorite candles burning, a warm cup of tea and embroidering whatever project she had in mind.

 

She could stitch away her troubles and her sorrows for a little while, soothing her mind into state of peacefulness that would help her later, when she had to face the problems that existed beyond her chamber's walls.

 

A smile formed on her face as she heard her children's loud and hearty laughter coming from the courtyard, knowing all too well they must be having one of their snowball fights. Her children were her life, she loved them above and beyond all, and their laughter was a reminder that, despite all her troubles, securing their happiness was the one thing she had always done right.

 

Her smile grew bigger as she recognized Arya's laughter, but that quickly turned into a frown as she listened closely. Arya was actually giggling and her giggles were reserved for two people only: her husband and the bastard.

 

She stood up quickly from her comfortable chair and walked towards the window to take a look. Catelyn Stark did not like what she saw.

 

Her daughter had found a new bastard to love.

 

_Not this time_ , she thought. _I won't allow it._

 

But she knew better.

 

_Forbid her anything and it becomes her heart's desire,_ she often thought about Arya. If she stopped her youngest daughter from seeing or being close to the boy, her heart would only grow fonder of him and that, she knew, could become a problem sooner rather than later.

 

No, this time, she would have to be smarter.

 

She watched the boy closely for a moment, noting how his serious, almost brooding expression would grow softer at the sight of her daughter. The boy did not laugh or frown as her younger sons threw snow balls at him, but he was all smiles as her daughter moved close to him, hitting him in the face with the precision of an expert.

 

Arya smiled prettily, innocently at him and whispered words only meant for his ears, the boy gave her a tender look in response and Catelyn Stark felt a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach.

 

 

_**Mistletoe** _

 

Arya left the party as soon as she had been able to, well, calling it party was a bit of an understatement and leaving wasn't the same as sneaking out.

 

The party was actually the Stark's Winter Ball, the one ocassion of the year where all the important northern families got reunited under the same roof to talk business, gossip and family, in that order.

 

She hated it of course.

 

First of all, she had to get up earlier than was necessary to allow others to turn her into the person she hated the most: a proper lady. Then she had to wear a dress hand picked by her mother, dance to music she didn't really like and socialize with a bunch of people who kept her eyes rolling all night long.

 

She still wasn't sure how the Freys managed to invite themselves every single year, they weren't even from the North and, worst of all, Walder Frey, patriarch of the family and old fart, didn't even try to pretend to be there for any other reason than to get one of his many daughters and grand daughters engaged to Robb.

 

Sure, not everything about the ball was bad, the food was great and there were some guests who made the whole affair enjoyable, like the Reeds, the Mormont ladies and the Manderly sisters, but tonight, it seemed they were all busy dancing, chatting and flirting, and Arya did not want to interrupt their fun times.

 

So, after she had finished dancing two songs (enough to please her mother) and thanking the old gods for being paired with Jojen Reed and not Elmar Frey like the last time, she decided she had to escape.

 

She already knew where she wanted to go and, luckily for her, it wasn't very far.

 

Arya made a quick visit to her bedroom to change her stuffy dress for something more comfortable and then ran downstairs, to the very bottom of her home, where Winterfell's servants and workers were having a party of their own, the kind of celebration she actually enjoyed, filled with happy music and loud noises and with people who loved her for her and not for her name.

 

She hurried her walk, afraid she might get caught even though she knew everybody was too busy to notice her absence and drag her back.

 

She quickly reached the bottom level and before she had even opened the door that lead to the basement, she could already hear the loud northern songs and the deep singing voices of Ben and Thomas, and the smell of Masha's roasted lamb hit her nose immediately after, making her mouth watery.

 

Arya smiled, feeling content for the first time in the whole day. Upstairs, she could feel so out of place and inadequate, especially since Jon had left for the Wall, but downstairs, with Winterfell's people, she felt right at home.

 

_And Gendry,_ she thought. _Gendry is home, too._

 

She hoped he had been allowed to leave his new job a bit earlier today. He had just gotten a second job in Winter town and he had told her he would probably miss the fest, but Arya hoped his boss would be kind enough to let him go early.

 

She opened the door and stood there for a minute, looking around, hoping to find him among the crowd.

 

"Oh, look who's finally here! Miss Arya Underfoot!" Fat Tom yelled cheerfully when he noticed her standing by the door.

 

"And look where she is!" Mycah, the butcher's boy, said out loud. "Tonight is my lucky night!" He exclaimed, standing from his chair.

 

"What are you talking about?" Arya asked them with a nervous smile.

 

"Careful, look up!" Daria, the little girl who followed Arya everywhere she went, half whispered half shouted in warning.

 

Arya frowned and lifted her head slowly only to find out that she was standing right under the mistletoe. "Shit!" she muttered, not knowing whether it was best to run back upstairs or stay there to be kissed and mocked all night.

 

"Don't move, miss Arya," Mycah said, "your kiss is coming!" He sounded and looked a bit tipsy.

 

"I think your kiss is coming a bit too late, son!" Mycah's father exclaimed from the back of the room.

 

"What-" Mycah turned a bit too fast to look at his father and tripped, falling face down into a stool, making everyone laugh and causing a momentary distraction.

 

"Hello, m'lady."

 

Arya gave a little jump, clearly taken by surprise, but she covered it by turning around with a big smile. "You made it," she sighed in relief.

 

"What's going on?" Gendry asked curiously.

 

She bit her lip. "Um, it's the mistletoe, we are standing under it."

 

Gendry looked up. "Oh . . ."

 

"We have to move before-"

 

" _Kiss, kiss, kiss, kiss!_ " Everybody demanded, hitting the tables with their hands and tapping their feet on the floor.

 

"Too late," she finished.

 

"C'mon, southron! The lady is waiting!" Ben yelled.

 

"More than bull, he's a craven!" Thomas added. "Afraid of the little she-wolf?"

 

"Afraid of the trout, more like!" Ben snorted, spitting beer all over himself.

 

Everybody laughed and Arya could feel her anger raising. "Look, Gendry's not a craven," she turned to face them, "if he doesn't want to, he doesn't-"

 

But Gendry didn't let her finish her rant. He pulled her close to him by the waist, his strong arm carefully wrapped around her, and pressed a kiss to her cheek, almost touching the corner of her mouth. Arya thanked the old gods he was holding her, because she swore her legs were about to give up on her.

 

The contact did not last more than a few seconds, but to Arya, it felt like forever. The warmth of his chest against her back, the feel of his fingers digging softly into her skin, the softness of his lips . . . by the time Arya realized she was able to daydream and fantasize as good as any other girl, her cheeks were beet red and everybody had noticed, Gendry included.

 

"I'm sorry, my boy," the old butcher said to his son, looking apologetic, "I think miss Arya made her choice very clear, she prefers blacksmiths over butchers," he laughed.

 

"The song of the lady and the blacksmith, how do you like the sound of that?" Ben asked to the whole room.

 

The people cheered and raised their jars and both Ben and Thomas started singing and playing their instruments.

 

"Wanna dance?" Gendry whispered in her ear.

 

Arya looked up at him, surprised. "But you can't dance."

 

"Well, that makes two of us," he shrugged.

 

She punched him lightly on the arm, looking playfully offended. "Don't be rude, stupid," she told him, grabbing his hand and pulling him behind her towards the makeshift dance floor.

 

 

_**Presents** _

 

It was the morning after Winterfest and all the members of the Stark family had woken up early to open their presents.

 

The spacious living room had been tastefully decorated with candles, dried flowers, figurines of the seven, ribbons and wreaths. However, the large and very realistic looking weirwood tree that had been placed on one side of the hearth was the center of attention.

 

The scenario was a mixture of northern and southron beliefs and traditions and the family had managed to combine both in a respectful and harmonious way. Everybody was happier because of it.

 

"This one is from uncle Benjen to Robb," Rickon said ceremonously, proud of being tasked, for the very first time, with the job of handing out the presents. "This one is for you Arya, from uncle Edmure."

 

Arya smiled and stretched out her arms to get her gift. Her uncle always knew exactly what to get her.

 

"This one is for Sansa," the boy continued, "from Margaret Tyrell."

 

" _Margaery_ Tyrell," Sansa corrected him.

 

Arya rolled her eyes discreetly. She did not understand how Sansa could still be friends with two faced Margaery, the girl was more fake than the plastic weirwood tree.

 

"Is something wrong with your eyes, Arya?" Sansa asked her, one of her eyebrows painfully arched.

 

"My eyes are perfectly fine, thank you."

 

"Really? Because I believe you just rolled your eyes at me."

 

"I rolled the eyes at the gift."

 

"Why? What did my present do to you?"

 

By this point, the Stark boys were focused in the back and forth between their sisters, ready for the inevitable fight.

 

"Nothing, I just think Margaery's put all her fakeness into that gift, you should probably sent it back or burn it."

 

Sansa huffed. "One, that's not proper, and two," she counted, "Margaery has flawless taste, I don't see why I should send back what I'm sure it's a wonderful present."

 

"Enjoy your fake politeness, then," she said.

 

"Enjoy your lack of manners and friends-"

 

"Enough!" Both of her parents exclaimed at the same time, knowing all too well where this was going.

 

"You won't be fighting so early in the morning and especially not on this day," her father said.

 

"Rickon, please," her mother smiled at her youngest brother.

 

The boy continued handing out the presents from their friends and family until there was only a small gift left under the three. He picked it up and frowned.

 

"It's for Arya, but doesn't say from who."

 

She took the thin, green box carefully in her hands. Her name was written with marker right under the little gold bow.

 

"Judging by the shape, I bet it's a carrot," Sansa said softly, grinning like an idiot and still managing to look all proper and beautiful.

 

"Sansa!" Her mother exclaimed.

 

"I wonder what the Seven will bring you this time, sweet sister, perhaps another asshole boyfriend who will cheat on you with your best friend?" Arya asked her sister. 

 

She left the living room before they could stop her, clutching her present close to her chest with one hand. She hated the fucking horseface nickname more than anything and Sansa knew it, but she was not going to give her sister the pleasure of seeing how much it upset her still.

 

She took her coat and ran outside, towards the heart tree and sat under it, but she did not pray or cry this time.

 

She smiled to herself when she remembered all the times she had asked the old gods to make her pretty, so Sansa and Jeyne would stop their neverending mockery, it wasn't her fault that she had gotten her father's long face, the Stark look.

 

Arya sighed and did what she always does when she feels like changing her face: she reminded herself that all the people that she loves the most love her for what's inside her head and chest, not for her outer shell.

 

She picked up her small present from the ground and opened it slowly, carefully, afraid that the contents could be a cruel joke. However, what she found inside put all her thoughts to rest and a smile on her face.

 

Inside the little box was a silver chain with a little acorn pendant.

 

_Gendry._

 

She took it out and admired her present for a long time. She did not own a lot of jewelry, she wasn't fond of wearing it and did not find much value or reason in showing off how much gold and diamonds you owned. Her father had given her a pair of earings that belonged to her aunt Lyanna for her twelfth birthday and just last year she had inherited a bracelet that had once belonged to her great grandmother. Since she had been named after her, her father decided it was only right for her to wear it (much to Sansa's displeasure).

 

The little details in the acorn were incredible and Arya knew Gendry had a lot to do with it. She gasped out loud when she thought she had broken the charm, only to realize she had opened it instead. The acorn was actually a sort of locket and there was a tiny piece of paper carefully tucked inside of it.

 

Arya unfolded it carefully and read the words written on it more than a hundred times.

 

_My nice oak tree._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part 2 is coming soon . . . I hope, lol.


	28. Winter Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is disgustingly long, I apologize.
> 
> For bookskitten, who kept me motivated to finish this story.

 

 

_**Ice Skating** _

 

"Arya, where are you going?" Ned Stark asked his youngest daughter as she was getting ready to go out.

 

"Ice skating with Gendry," she smiled at him, putting her skates inside her backpack.

 

"Who's going to take you there?"

 

"We are going to walk, it's not that far."

 

"Are you sure? I could take you, it's very cold outside."

 

"Don't worry, dad, we'll be fine," she told him, standing on the tips of her toes to press a kiss to his cheek. "Besides, you know I love the cold."

 

 _I love the cold, Ned._ His daughter's words brought back painful and lovely memories of his sweet sister and he couldn't help but bring his daughter close to him and wrap his arms tightly around her.

 

"Is something wrong, dad?"

 

"No, not at all," he assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead, "go on, have fun and be careful."

 

"I will!"

 

She said goodbye to him and ran out of the house. He wondered if his wife knew where Arya was going and, more importantly, with whom she was going out. He doubted she knew. He thought of his daughter, who looked like his sister a bit more with each passing day, a lovely northern girl with wolf blood in her veins. He thought of Gendry, who looked exactly like his father at his age, a girl's fantasy, an attractive boy that had none of his father's arrogance.

 

They were not children anymore.

 

"A message for you, my Lord," the old maester said, handing him a piece of paper and taking him out of his thoughts, "from Lord Baratheon."

 

"Thank you."

 

The maester bowed his head, "You are welcome, my Lord."

 

"Luwin."

 

"Yes, my Lord?"

 

"Do you think I made a mistake by bringing Gendry here?"

 

"That's not for me to say, my Lord."

 

"I think it was a mistake."

 

The old maester went quiet for a moment, looking pensive, as if he was measuring his words. "Protecting an innocent child is never a mistake. No man or god will judge you for wanting to keep the boy safe."

 

"Would you have done the same?"

 

"I want to believe so, yes."

 

"Sometimes I wonder if I did the right thing for my family."

 

"The boy is a good lad, a bit rough and surly, but good nonetheless, he's not hurting anyone with his presence," the old man said, "not to mention Lady Arya found a good friend in him."

 

Ned Stark rubbed his chin. "That's what worries me."

 

"Ah, are you afraid history might repeat itself?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Well, Lady Lyanna was never fond of Lord Baratheon, so there is a difference already."

 

He smiled. "My wife doesn't approve of their friendship, she wants the boy out of Winterfell before Spring comes."

 

"They say the absence makes the heart grow fonder," the maester chuckled, "Lady Arya will take the distance as an advatage, I'm sure."

 

Ned Stark laughed and patted the old man gently on the shoulder. "I believe there's too much wolf in my daughter."

 

"Be grateful for that, my lord," the man said before leaving, his voice a mixture of relief and sadness.

 

Ned Stark stood quietly for a moment, with the presence of his daughter and sister heavy in his mind.

 

 

**_Candlelight_ **

 

"Another night out of the house, sister?"

 

"Fuck!" Arya shouted as she fell hard on her ass.

 

Bran tsked, shaking his head. "Aren't you supposed to be quick as a snake and quiet as a ghost? Your old dancing master would be so disappointed," he joked.

 

"First, it's _quiet as a shadow_ , stupid," she told him. "And second, why can't you be a normal teenager? What are you doing sitting alone in the dark?"

 

Bran moved closer to the window and when the moonlight hit his face for a moment, Arya noted he was wearing his glasses. The boy lighted a candle and sat on the window sill, a foolish grin on his lips

 

Arya rolled her eyes. "Reading by candlelight? How cheesy of you."

 

"Sneaking out of the house through a window? How cliché of you," he shot right back at her.

 

Arya snorted. Her brother had a point. "What are you reading about, Branches?" She asked him, sitting by his side.

 

"The greensight."

 

"Oh, c'mon! You are too smart to believe in that crap!" She sounded offended for him.

 

"It's not crap, it's actually very interesting."

 

Arya took the book from his hands, looking for the name of the author. It was hard with so little light. "Bloodraven? Really? That's the author?"

 

"It's a pseudonym."

 

"Duh, I know. Still, it sounds pretty silly to me, and the greensight is pure crap."

 

"Arya, you used to believe in Dark Sister. May I remind you the time you escaped from home in order to find it?"

 

"What are you even talking about?"

 

"And what about the time you thought you were a warg? You were so happy telling everyone you could get inside the mind of the neighbor's cat."

 

"Yeah, but I was young and gullible," she laughed.

 

"You are still young and gullible," he said.

 

"Shut up, I'm not!"

 

"Yes you are. Arya, you have to be more careful, mother already suspects there's something going on between you and Gendry."

 

"Well of course, Gendry is my friend," she played innocent.

 

"Please, I'm not an idiot."

 

Arya bit her lip. "Do you think she knows?"

 

"No, but she's definitely suspicious." He looked at Arya closely for a moment."Do you like him?" He asked her bluntly.

 

"I do," she sighed. "A lot."

 

"Then you better be more careful. If mother finds out, she's gonna kick him out, like she did with Jon."

 

"Mother didn't kick Jon out the house, Brandon!"

 

Bran took a deep, long breath. "No, she didn't, but she did her best to push him out the house and away from the people he loves. Getting rid of Gendry would be easier for her and you don't want that to happen, do you?"

 

She only shook her head in response.

 

"Then don't be so dumb."

 

"Hey! Aren't you on my side?"

 

"I am, but since I'm the smarter of the two, I have to warn you and advise you to improve the logistics of your enounters."

 

"You are such a smart-ass," she said, "and that's why I love you," she pressed a kiss to her brother's cheek.

 

"Don't be gross."

 

"Stupid," she smiled, placing one of her legs out of the window. "Warn me if something happens, okay?"

 

"I will, but promise me I won't become an uncle any time soon."

 

"Shut up, Branches!"

 

"When are you gonna stop calling me that? I don't even climb trees anymore."

 

"Never," she grinned at him before jumping out of the window.

 

"Be careful, sis," he said to her in a loud whisper.

 

Arya waved at him when she finally reached the ground and ran as quickly as possible towards the back of the garage, where Gendry was already waiting for her and looking very anxious.

 

"What took you so long? Did someone see you?" He asked her worriedly.

 

"Yes."

 

"Fuck! What are we gonna do? If-"

 

Arya cut him short with a kiss. That always worked to shut him up and relax him a little.

 

"It's fine, trust me," she assured him with a smile, after their lips broke apart with a soft, wet sound. "Now let's hurry, I don't wanna waste more time."

 

He took her hand in his and gave her a smile. "I have a surprise for you."

 

"What is it?"

 

"Can't you just wait a little?"

 

"No."

 

He laughed and pulled her closer to him. "Always so hasty, m'lady."

 

They knew well the longer they remained inside Winterfell's grounds, the greater was the risk of getting caught, so they rushed towards the back of the house and jumped over the fence with well practiced movements. They walked along a dirt path (that nobody really used anymore) until they reached the main road, but instead of trying to find a cab like they always did, Gendry walked them towards an old pick up truck that was parked on the side of the road.

 

"Surprise!" He exclaimed with open arms. "It's not new or anything, but it works well enough," he shyly added, worried about her unusual quietness.

 

"Gods." Arya looked at the truck for a moment and bit her lip.

 

"We can take a cab if you wish."

 

"Why would I wish that?" She asked him, running into his arms to give him a hug. "It's perfect," she whispered against his chest.

 

"How? It's old and ugly."

 

"It's perfect because it's yours, stupid," she told him with a slight tone of annoyance in her voice. "Now we can go everywhere we want," she looked up at him and smiled a wolfish grin. "And it's great if we want a little bit of privacy."

 

He laughed, amused by her total lack of properness. "I think we need a bit of privacy now, don't you think?"

 

For some reason, Bran's warnings hit her right in that moment. "Yes, but not here, let's go," she shuddered, thinking of all the bad things that could happen if her mother were to find them.

 

"Cold?" He asked her as they got inside the truck.

 

Arya looked at him, really looked at him, and for a few seconds, she saw her future. It was warm. "Not anymore."

 

 

**_Cold_ **

 

Gendry was falling into a deep slumber when he felt a sudden rush of cold air hit his back. He tried to wrap the covers tighter around him, but couldn't for some reason, the blankets were probably twisted or still stuck in one of the corners of the bed.

 

Just as he tried to loose them up a little bit, he felt her body press close to his.

 

"Arya, what are you doing here?"

 

"I'm cold," she mumbled, nuzzling his bare shoulder with the tip of her nose.

 

"Yes, and naked," he added.

 

She chuckled. "Then you better warm me up, stupid," she told him, sliding one of her legs between his, rubbing her foot up and down his hairy leg. She wrapped her right arm around him and Gendry took her hand and held it close to his chest, pressing a kiss to her nuckles. She smiled and tightened her hold on him. "I missed you," she whispered softly.

 

"I was gone for two days," he grinned.

 

"So? I missed you anyway, this especially," she freed her hand from his and shoved it shamelessly under his underwear, rubbing his cock up and down in a slow, lazy rhythm.

 

He groaned, loving the feeling of her warm, soft hand, but before he could lose himself to her, like he always did, he had to warn her, "Arya, if your mother finds you here, she will kill me and she will lock you up forever."

 

"I don't care."

 

"Yes, you do. If she-"

 

"Do you really want to talk about my mother while I'm rubbing your cock?" She interrupted him.

 

"No, but if she finds us here there will be no more cock to rub, I can assure you that," he told her.

 

"She won't, trust me," she promised him as she squeezed the base of his cock a little.

 

"Arry," he moaned his nickname for her when he had meant to sound serious.

 

" _My bull_ ," she said with a smile on her lips, knowing how much he both hated and loved when she called him that way.

 

"It's not fair, I told you last time, I don't want to risk-" his words were cut short as she started to caress the head of his cock, spreading the liquid that had gathered at the tip with her thumb, "you."

 

She bit his earlobe and began pressing kisses on his neck. "You are not putting me at risk," she said between kisses, "besides, my parents are too busy and tired to pay attention to me at the moment, let's thank Robb for that," she chuckled, letting go of his cock.

 

"Why did you stop?" He asked her, letting out a groan of both pleasure and frustration.

 

She shushed him, pushing him into his back, "let's get rid of this," she winked at him, pulling his boxers down his legs.

 

"Wait, wait, wait," he grabbed her hands, keeping his underwear mid thigh. "Arya, no, not while you are naked."

 

She rolled her eyes. "This is how it supposed to be."

 

"Arya, you know the rules."

 

She huffed, laying on her back. "You and your stupid rules."

 

He pulled his boxers up, turned on his side, and placed his large hand over her stomach. "Arry, you know I want this, too," he grinned, caressing her soft skin, "probably more than you do."

 

"I doubt that," she scowled. "You always turn into a craven right before the good stuff begins."

 

"So, all the other _stuff_ is not good?"

 

"It's good, it's great, really, but I want to try some new things."

 

He smiled. "What sort of new things?"

 

"I won't tell you, what's the point? you won't let us try them."

 

"Arry," he whispered her name, pulling her closer to him, and pressed a kiss to her cheek, "we have lots of time to do all those things and more, can't you just wait a little longer?"

 

"No," she said stubbornly, looking away from him.

 

"Arya," he took her chin softly between his fingers and turned her head towards him.

 

She met his eyes and pouted, "I feel like I've been waiting since forever."

 

"You'll be eighteen in a few more months and I'll have my own place before that and then we'll be free to do everything we want."

 

She turned on her side and pressed her cheek against his strong chest. "You promise?"

 

"I promise," he wrapped his arms tightly around her and kissed the top of her head.

 

She sighed and went very still for a moment and he thought she had fallen asleep . . . until he felt her hand squeezing his butt.

 

"I'm still not done with you, Gendry Waters."

 

"Try not to squeeze and bite too hard, last time I couldn't sit for a week," he warned her.

 

"I'm sorry, I can't make any promises," she giggled, "you know how much I like your ass."

 

"Sometimes I feel you like it more than you like me."

 

"You're right," she shrugged, "now turn around, you're wasting my time, Waters!"

 

"As m'lady commands!"

 

 

**_Snowed in_ **

 

"What did you tell her?" Gendry asked her as they got comfortable on the couch.

 

Arya sat on his lap, with her arms around his neck, nuzzling his cheek with the cold tip of her nose.

 

"I told her we got snowed in, so I have to spend the night over here."

 

"Over here?" He questioned her not believing his ears. "Where exactly is _over here_?"

 

"Does it matter?" She asked back, kissing his jaw from chin to ear.

 

He squeezed her side, out of pleasure and frustration. "Yes it does."

 

"No it doesn't," she retorted, sucking gently on his skin, trying to disctract him.

 

"It matters because I could be dead tomorrow," he moaned, as Arya started to rub him over his jeans.

 

"Don't be so dramatic," she said, kissing the corner of his lips. "I told them I was with the Mormonts, if that makes you feel any better," and then she kissed him full on the mouth.

 

Gendry moaned again, but this time it wasn't a happy one, and teared his lips from hers. "So, I guess I'm Lyanna Mormont now? Who was I last time? Oh yes, Wylla Manderly," he looked away from her, shaking his head a little.

 

"Hey, look at me," Arya asked him, getting a bit angry herself. "Don't be like that."

 

"Like what?"

 

"An asshole."

 

"Oh, so now I'm an asshole?" He tried to get up from the couch, but she didn't let him. She placed her hands firmly on his soulders and moved to straddle him. "What are you doing?"

 

"Nothing I haven't done before," she huffed. "May I remind you that you are the one who doesn't want to tell my parents about us? The one who keeps stopping me everytime I try to tell them?"

 

Gendry let out a sigh of shame and frustration. "I'm sorry, Arry," he apologized, hugging her close to him, buring his face between her breasts, enjoying their softness and inhaling her scent. "I don't want to keep hiding, but I also don't want to get you in trouble with your parents."

 

She rested her cheek on top of his head, rubbing the back of his neck with her fingertips, the way he liked it. "I know, but they will find out eventually and I think that better be soon, before it's too late."

 

He nodded. "They are going to kill me."

 

"They won't. Father is too honorable for that, my mother might try, but I'm sure father would stop her."

 

"Well thank you for that, Arry," he muttered against the fabric of her sweater, keeping his face pressed to her chest.

 

"Comfy?"

 

"Very," was all he said.

 

Arya laughed. "How so? There's not a lot over there."

 

"It's enough for me," he said, before pressing a kiss over one of her breasts.

 

"Stupid."

 

He looked up at her, smiling one of his silly, attractive smiles that she loved so much. "Plus this thick sweater helps to create the illusion that there's something bigger under it."

 

Arya's jaw dopped. "How rude!" She pretended to be offended. "That's it, you are not touching them anymore, you better say goodbye to them!" She put a bit of distance between the two, but still not moving from his lap, and crossed her arms under her breasts. "What are you waiting for?"

 

Gendry looked very serious. "Well, if you are going to keep me away from them, then I want a proper goodbye."

 

She smiled a wolfish grin and arched one of her eyebrows. "Then you'll have one," she warned him, taking off her oversized sweater with one quick movement, revealing her naked torso to him. He got a dumbstruck look on his face and she couldn't help but laugh. "What are you waiting for, stupid?

 

"Seven Hells," he whispered, running his hands shyly up and down her sides.

 

"Don't act like you haven't seen them before."

 

"Yeah, but you usually have a bit of fabric covering them."

 

She snorted. "I like this better."

 

"Oh, I like this better too, trust me," he told her, before he moved to press soft, open mouthed kisses over her right breast, but making sure not to neglect the other as he caressed it with his finger tips.

 

Arya rested her hands on the back of his head, threading his fingers through his thick hair. "I'm starting to think you have a preference for my right brea-" her words were cut short as she moaned out of pleasure.

 

Gendry was giving gentle bites to her nipple, which he then caressed with the top of his tongue, cooling and soothing the area. "I do like it a bit more," he said after sucking on her niple one last time. "It was the first one I touched, remember?" He laughed, wiggling his eyebrows at her.

 

Arya smiled and pressed a kiss on his lips, remembering how their innocent wrestling days transformed into make out sessions and then into full fucking. "Yeah, but it wasn't on purpose, I hope."

 

"Not at all," he smiled. "I still remember how embarrased I was that time."

 

"Yeah, you ran out of the forge and left me there on the floor, alone and confused, I had no idea what I had done wrong, especially when you stopped talking to me," she recalled.

 

"I was a confused teenager with a crush on a higborn girl, I didn't know what to do, what to feel," he sighed.

 

"And now?"

 

"Now I know exactly what I feel for you and what I want to do to you."

 

"Good," was all she said.

 

"You also have a very cute freckle down here," he told her, rubbing the tip of his index finger on the underside of her breast.

 

"Really? I haven't noticed."

 

"Yeah, I discovered it, so I have the right to claim it all for myself," he pressed a kiss to it and looked up, meeting her eyes.

 

She smiled at him. "I love you."

 

"Tell me something I don't know."

 

"Stupid," she chuckled. "I think you're a bit overdressed for the occasion, don't you think?"

 

"I agree." He took off his hoodie and tank top and rested his back against the couch, pulling her with him. "Better?"

 

"Much better, but I think there's still room for improvement."

 

"Oh really?"

 

"Yeah," she giggled, leaning back to unbuckle his belt and lower his zipper. She was about to pull his jeans down, but then decided against it, a bit of teasing wouldn't be so bad.

 

She stood up and pulled down her thick, woolen leggings down her legs with a bit of trouble since they were a bit tight.

 

"Wear some sweatpants next time," he suggested.

 

"Shut up." She threw her leggings to his face, making him laugh. "Now," she said, settling right over his exposed underwear, "where were we?" She asked him while she rubbed her hands over his strong chest.

 

If there was one place of his body Arya loved more than his butt, that was his chest. It was the first part of him she had touched in a not so innocent way, the part of his body that had received most of her tears and the most comfortable place to rest.

 

"I think you were about to get rid of my jeans," he reminded her.

 

"Hmm, I don't think so," she said, moving forward to bit his lower lip, taking advantange of the action to tease him a little.

 

He groaned as he felt her cunt rubbing lightly against his boxers. He wanted to say something, but her lips were on his and it seemed like they were going to stay there for a long time, so he started to move his hands up and down her legs, letting his fingers go under her black panties, pressing them into her soft skin. He felt the goosebumps forming on her skin and smiled, he could tease her too.

 

A shiver ran down her spine as she felt one of his hands caressing softly the skin of her back, starting from her nape and all the way down to her ass. She jumped a little as she felt his fingers moving inside her underwaer and she let out a gasp once he started to rub her cunt from behind.

 

"You like that?" He asked her looking right into her eyes.

 

She nodded, moving her hips to the feel of his fingers.

 

He found endearing how she kept caressing his neck and chest, even though he knew her mind was not focused on him at all. He kept rubbing her until there was enough moisture and he parted her lips to fit the tip of his middle finger inside her, not wanting to rush things.

 

Arya, however, had other plans as she let out a groan of frustration and moved her hips back so his entire finger went inside her in one quick movement. Up and down she moved, enjoying the feeling, but wanting more.

 

Gendry couldn't help himself and ripped her panties off of her.

 

"Hey, what the fuck?" She managed to say, but not sounding angry at all.

 

He smiled at her and said nothing, just kept moving his finger in and out of her. Her eyes were closed now and her hips kept moving forward, as if they were looking for some kind of relief. Gendry moved his thumb over the top part of her slit, hoping that was what she needed, and began rubbing.

 

Judging by the way her cunt tightened around his finger and the sounds she was making, Gendry thought he had done the right thing.

 

After a while, Arya shuddered and raised herself a little, squeezing her cunt tight. Gendry felt her wetness rolling down his finger and hand and held her tight to him with his now free arm. She fell on top of him, breathing fast and he could feel her heart beating rapidly against him. He pressed a kiss between her breasts and inhaled her scent once more.

 

"That was great," she said softly, after she managed to catch her breath and then leaned back so she could look at his face, "those hands of yours are so talented," she happily said.

 

Gendry snorted and kept rubbing her back lovingly. "Did you really like it?" He honestly wondered, he was never sure. Arya had been his first, they both had been each other's first, and he was unexperienced. He just wanted to be sure he hadn't hurt her or made her feel uncomfortable.

 

She nodded. "It felt weird at first," she said, a light blush on her cheeks, "your finger moving from behind, it was a different sensation," she bit her lip. "I think we should try that again," she told him, "but with this," as she said this she sneaked her hand between their bodies to grab a hold of his cock.

 

He was hard as stone and his cock twitched with anticipation at the feel of her warm hand, hoping for a long awaited release. Gendry grunted and pushed his hips up, "I like the sound of that."

 

Arya smiled at him and stood up quickly, pulling his jeans and underwear at the same time. As soon as his clothes lay discarded on the floor, she moved on top of him again, straddling him once more. She kissed him softly on the lips before she settled down right on top of his cock, rubbing her cunt with teasing yet shy movements up and down his length, taking advantage of the wetness he had helped to create before.

 

He broke their kiss and let his head fall back, "Fuck, that feels so good."

 

She grinned and began to kiss his neck, sucking on his damped skin, biting the top of his shoulder. She continued her movements, feeling her lips parting for him, enjoying the ticklish sensation of his hairy legs against hers, slightly amused by the sounds their bodies were making.

 

All of a sudden, Gendry grabbed the back of her head and kissed her fiercely, hungrily. He had his other arm wrapped around her waist, holding her incredibly close to him, as if he was afraid she would leave him and disappear forever. Arya hugged him back and bit on his lower lip, sucking on it, giving his lips little pecks.

 

She gave him a smile and looked right at him as she placed his cock right at her entrance and allowed him inside her. Gendry groaned loudly as his cock finally got to feel her tightness.

 

He was thick and hard and she was tight and warm and it all made for a great combination that took both quickly over the edge.

 

After they found their release they fell asleep on the couch, not caring for comfort, just wanting to be as close to each other as possible. Arya put her sweater back on and Gendry grabbed the first blanket he could find to keep the cold away from the warm, sweaty bodies and placed it over them, trying his best to keep them both covered. Arya was a terrible blanket hog.

 

He woke up first very early in the morning, an habit he was sure he would never get rid of. He disentangled himself from Arya, careful of not waking her up, and went to his room to wash himself and put on some clean underwear and a baggy pair of sweatpants. He went back to the living room, kissed Arya on the forehead and texted Hot Pie, asking him to send some of Arya's favorites from Sharna's menu to his apartment

 

He cleaned the room a little, getting rid of the mess they had made the night before, and then checked the clock, another habit he had developed since he started sneaking out with Arya. He finally sat at the edge of the couch where Arya was sleeping and just stared lovingly at her face. He could do that all day if necessary.

 

There was a knock on the door and he went looking for his wallet. Arya woke up at the sound of the insistent knocking.

 

"Coming!"

 

"What's going on?" She asked still half asleep, rubbing her sleepy eyes with the palms of her hands.

 

"I ordered some food," he replied, pressing a quick peck on her lips.

 

"Ugh, no!" She exclaimed, pushing him away, "I have morning breath!"

 

"I don't give a fuck," he told her, before giving her another kiss. He pulled the blanket down her legs and she looked at him curiously.

 

"You have no underwear on."

 

"Thanks to you, stupid," she chuckled.

 

"Sorry for that."

 

She shrugged. "It's okay."

 

"I ordered your favorites from Sharna's as an apology."

 

That really woke her up and she was standing in a moment, running towards the door wearing only her oversized sweater. Gendry smiled and grabbed her by the waist, stopping her from openning the door.

 

"Let me go, stupid," she laughed as the knocking continued. "The delivery guy won't wait forever."

 

"He can wait," he told her, placing her behind the door. "He won't get to see you like that, I'm sorry."

 

"You are such a jealous bull."

 

"That's why you love me." He smiled at her and opened the door and in less than one second, as his eyes focused on the person on the other side of the door, the joy and happiness that existed in him slipped out of his body leaving him cold and empty. Gendry gulped, "Lady Stark."

 

"I want to see my daughter, I know she's here."

 

Arya braced herself for the worst and without a drop of shame, stood by Gendry's side. "I'm here, mother."

 

"Put on some pants, we are going home."

 

"I'm not a child, mother, I'll go home after I take a shower."

 

Her mother looked beyond furious, but did not lose her composure, as it was expected of her. "Either you go home with me and we fix this as a family or you stay here and forget you ever had one. It's your choice."

 

Arya frowned and balled her hands into tight fists, she loved her mother, but she was not going to be intimidated. "Gendry is my family, I don't need you."

 

The words cut her deeper than any sword. She hated herself for speaking them out loud.

 

"Arya," Gendry whispered, looking worried for her.

 

"You have made your choice, now you'll have to live with it."

 

"I will."

 

Her mother nodded once and walked away and as she turned around of the corner and out of her sight, Arya broke into tears. Gendry held her close to him, whispering reassuring words to her ears, trying his best to make her feel better.

 

"I'm sorry, Arya, I'm so sorry," he kept telling her. "Let's get dressed, I'll take you home and you'll talk to her, fix this mess."

 

She shook her head. "No, I won't."

 

"Arya . . ."

 

"I won't change my mind, I always do, for her sake, for her happiness," she sobbed, "this time I'm putting my own happiness first, is that a crime?"

 

"No, it's not."

 

She pressed her cheek against his chest, "I'm going to miss my brothers so much and my dad . . ."

 

"I doubt your father will cut you out of his life. I don't know if you have noticed, but you are his favorite," he joked, even though it wasn't a lie.

 

Arya chuckled softly. "I hope you are right."

 

 

**_Family_ **

 

The look on Arya's face was one Gendry had become very familiar with during the last year. He wanted to help her get rid of it, but it wasn't easy, it never was.

 

"Thinking of them?" He asked her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

 

"No," she replied quickly, too quickly, ". . . yes."

 

"Winterfest is not over yet, they might still call."

 

Arya gave him a sad smile. "You know they won't."

 

"Well, then I'll keep hoping for both of us," he assured her, caressing her cheek with his thumb.

 

"Thank you, Gendry."

 

"You're welcome, m'lady."

 

Arya scrunched up her nose. "Ugh, don't call me that, it sounds even worse now, so wrong."

 

He laughed, glad he had put a different expression on her face. Subtly, he checked the clock one more time, hoping she wouldn't notice.

 

"Okay, what's going on? You have been checking the clock non stop for the last hour!"

 

"No I haven't."

 

"Gendry, please, you are a terrible liar."

 

"Well, you got me she-wolf," he told her, holding her close to him by the waist and kissing her senseless.

 

The knock on the door put an end to their kiss.

 

"And here it is!" He exclaimed, letting go of her and moving towards the door.

 

"What?"

 

"My early present for you."

 

"Ugh, please tell me it's not more food, I'm starting to look like an aurochs!"

 

"Yes, but a cute one," he wiggled his eyebrows, looking like an idiot.

 

"Shut up!"

 

"Surprise!" Gendry exclaimed as he opened the door.

 

Arya gasped out loud and before she knew, she had her arms and legs wrapped around her favorite brother.

 

"Jon! Oh Jon, I missed you so much!" She cried loudly.

 

"I missed you too, little sister."

 

She let go of him after a long while and he put her down on the floor, but not before she showered him with kisses. He smiled at her, like he always did, and mussed up her hair.

 

"You look different, little sister."

 

"Fatter?"

 

He laughed and shook his head. "No, more beautiful."

 

Arya blushed and buried her face on his chest, inhaling the scent of woods, smoke and winter that was caught on his furs. "Stay with me forever?"

 

Jon wrapped his arms tightly around her and placed a kiss on top of her head. "You know I can't, Arya, but we'll make the most of the time we have together, is that all right?"

 

She nodded, tears rolling down her cheeks.

 

They would have stayed there, holding each other until the end of time, but Gendry had other plans.

 

"You should come inside, get warm," Gendry suggested after he cleared his throat a couple of -very loud- times.

 

"Yes, come, come!" Arya dried her tears quickly and picked one of Jon's bags from the floor, running into the apartment to get the guest room (that also functioned as their laundry and study room) ready for her brother.

 

"Waters," Jon acknowledged Gendry with a nod as he walked inside.

 

"Snow."

 

Though they shared many things in common, including their love for Arya, they had never been friends nor particularly close.

 

Jon stopped and turned around to look at Gendry with the angry Stark look he was also very familiar with. "I'm doing this for my sister, don't get me wrong."

 

"I know."

 

"How is she?"

 

"She's doing fine, better than I thought she would, but I think it's best if you ask her, I don't think it's right that I speak about her feelings for her."

 

Jon nodded. "But she loves you?"

 

Gendry forced himself not to roll his eyes. "I dare to say she does."

 

Arya came back from the guest room holding a bunch of dirty clothes. "The room is ready, you can put the rest of your stuff in there and take a shower if you wish," she smiled lovingly at her brother.

 

"I think I'll do that."

 

*

 

They had just finished dinner when Arya decided it was time for some serious talk.

 

"You got married? With none of the family present? And you didn't tell me?" Jon couldn't believe his ears.

 

"I'm sorry, Jon," she apologized, looking mortified, "we had no other option left," she assured him, holding Gendry's hand a bit tighter.

 

"I can't believe you did that," he shook his head, "no, actually, I can, I just can't believe you didn't let me know!"

 

"I know, I'm sorry, everything happened so fast . . ."

 

"We didn't have a religious ceremony, so there's still a chance you can attend one of our weddings."

 

Arya looked at Gendry with murderous eyes. That was not the right thing to say.

 

"You didn't marry before the old gods? Why?" Jon looked appaled

 

Arya bit her lip. "I was hoping . . . I want to get married before the heart tree, back at Winterfell," she said softly, sounding sad.

 

Jon sighed deeply and rubbed his eyes. "There's still time for that," Jon told her, squeezing his eyes shut, he was tired and wanted nothing more than sleep a few hours at least. "And you are not pregnant, so you can still wait a little longer to receive the gods' blessings."

 

The silence in the room was deafening.

 

Jon looked at them and found two guilty yet happy faces staring back at him. 

 

"You have to be kidding me!"

 

 

 

 

I got the prompt words from [here](http://kpopscenariostho.tumblr.com/post/134290176656/32-days-of-christmas)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed my verbal diarrhea.


	29. Time flies

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bookskitten suggested this so I blame her for it, lol.
> 
>  
> 
> Set in the "Chest pains" universe.

 

"If we are divorcing, can I keep the Cyvasse board?" Gendry asked in all seriousness.

 

"We are not divorcing, stupid," Arya huffed. "We are just going to live apart until we are older."

 

"I still don't understand why, I told your father I can take care of you!"

 

"I can take care of myself, thank you," she said to him, looking a bit offended. "Father said we have to wait until we are mature adults to be together, whatever that means."

 

Gendry frowned. "I'm ten, I wonder how long I have to wait to become a mature adult."

 

"I don't know," she shrugged, "maybe five years?"

 

The boy got the pained look on his face that she had grown to recognize and read so well.

 

"Don't worry," she told him, patting him lightly on his shoulder. "Time flies."

 

"What's that supposed to mean?"

 

"I don't know, Maester Luwin always tells me that when I become impatient."

 

Gendry reached out his hand and took her small one in his. "I'll grow up fast, I promise."

 

She smiled at him and nodded. "I will too."

 

"I'll ask my father to let me work with Noye, he told me I could become a great blacksmith one day. He is getting old and I'm strong, I'm sure if I ask my father he will let me work as his apprentice. I'll save all my wages, so by the time we become mature adults we will have enough money to buy a house."

 

"We don't need to buy one, we have the tree house."

 

"I don't think I can live there."

 

"Why not?"

 

"Because I can barely fit in it!"

 

Arya chuckled. "Well, you better stop growing."

 

"I can't. We Baratheons are naturally tall and handsome, that's what my father says."

 

"Your father says a lot of things, it doesn't mean they are true."

 

"How so?" Gendry frowned.

 

"He keeps saying I look just like my aunt Lyanna and that can't be true, she was beautiful."

 

"You are too!" He exclaimed, looking offended that she would suggest the opposite.

 

"If you say so," she said, not sounding convinced in the least.

 

"Arya," he called her name and held her hand a bit tighter, "you are."

 

She nodded and gave him a small smile. She wanted to believe Gendry and her father and Jon were right and not just telling her sweet little lies.

 

"Here," she said, shaking her head to clear her mind and placing a big bundle in his arms, "be careful, don't drop her."

 

"Arya, who's gonna keep the baby?"

 

"Me of course!"

 

"It's not fair, Nymeria loves me too!"

 

"Yes, but my father got her for me."

 

"But what if she misses me?" He asked as the pup struggled to get out of the blanket Arya had wrapped her in.

 

"You are here almost every weekend, I don't think she'll have time to miss you."

 

"What if I miss her?" He laughed once the pup started to lick his face. "See? She loves me."

 

"I'll ask my father to take us to your house."

 

"Okay."

 

"It's time for Nymeria's meal," she said, "let's see if there's any food left on her plate."

 

"Arya?"

 

"What?"

 

"I think Nym just pissed on me."

 

She laughed and took the pup from his arms, pressing a kiss to her wet nose. "Well done, Nym," she told the wolf looking dog, "teach your father a lesson."

 

As both kids walked away from the garden, discussing who was going to do the cooking and cleaning once they lived together, their parents kept looking at them.

 

"Your girl has my boy wrapped around her little finger."

 

"She does not. She's just a little girl."

 

"How long do you think they'll wait after she turns eighteen to announce their engagement."

 

Ned Stark choked on his drink. "What?"

 

"I wonder if they'll name their first baby after me," Robert Baratheon kept day dreaming, "Roberta is a nice, strong name for a girl."

 

"Robert, stop!"

 

"Will they marry here or back at Storm's End?"

 

"That's enough!"

 

Robert Baratheon couldn't help but laugh out loud at his best friend's expense. "Relax, I'm only joking," he assured him, "I'm sure they'll wait until she's out of college at least."

 

The idea helped very little to calm down Ned Stark's fast beating heart.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Silly, I know.


	30. Flowers Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 30th chapter, I can't believe it. Not going to lie, I feel a tiny bit proud of myself. :B

 

 

Arya was walking back to the hospital's building when she noticed a boy sitting on his own in one of the benches were patients and family members usually sat to take some fresh air. He wasn't there when she had left the building and she had never seen him in the two weeks she had been visiting the hospital, so curiosity, as always, took the best of her.

 

She slowed down her steps and, as she moved closer to him, she noticed he was crying.

 

His lips, nose and eyes were red and tears were rolling down his cheecks, but his cry was silent. She recognized that sort of crying, the silent kind that meant hope had left you. Arya felt very sorry for him.

 

She bit her lip and ran towards the garden at the back of the hospital. She had planned to bring some flowers to her father since they always made him happy, so she hoped they would put a smile on this boy's face too, if only for a little while.

 

Arya came back quickly, holding a bunch of yellow and white little flowers in her hands. She looked at the place where the boy was sitting and took a deep breath. He was still there.

 

She approached him on shy yet firm steps and when she got close enough to him, she held out her hands, offering the raggedy bunch of flowers.

 

"For you," she smiled at the boy, who looked at her with wide open eyes for a moment, before he tried his best to wipe off his tears.

 

"Thank you," the boy told her as he took the flowers from her hands.

 

"May I sit?"

 

The boy nodded and quickly passed his hands over the bench a few times, as if he was trying to clean it for her. Arya stopped him, telling him it wasn't necessary and sat by his side.

 

"I'm Arya, what's your name?"

 

"G-Gendry," he replied, as if he wasn't completely sure.

 

Arya offered him her hand and was surprised to find his was very warm despite the cold weather. She could feel a roughness in his skin and even some calluses. She liked that. Her father had the same sort of hands, warm and worked.

 

She wondered, however, how such a young boy could get hands like that.

 

"Why were you crying?"

 

The question took him by surprise, judging by his expression. Arya wondered if she had been too forward. She often questioned herself why she couldn't control her big mouth better.

 

"My mother," he paused, "she's sick."

 

"Oh, I'm sorry," she sincerely told him, "my father is sick too."

 

"She . . . she won't get better."

 

Arya gasped softly. Her sister always said she was dumb, but she wasn't, not really. She understood well what those words meant. She moved closer too him and placed her hand on his shoulder. "Is she very sick?"

 

"Yes. They don't want me to know, but I heard the doctor talking," his hands balled into tight fists, "he said it's too late for her, that there's nothing he can do for her anymore. He hopes she will leave the hospital soon so they can use her bed for another patient."

 

Arya frowned. Doctors were not supposed to be cruel. Doctor Luwin, the man who was attending her father, was always so kind and spoke with words Arya and her siblings could easily understand. She didn't understand how or why the doctor who was attending Gendry's mother could be so mean and cold.

 

"I'm sorry," she said again. "I- I don't know what can I do to help you."

 

Gendry smiled at her and shook his head. "There's nothing you can do, no one can help me and no one can help my mother."

 

Arya bit her lip. He was probably right, but still, she had to try to make him feel better at least. She moved even closer to him and took one of his large hands in hers. She cleared her throat a couple of times and started humming the tune of an old song she liked very much.

 

She was not a good singer, so she hoped this would do.

 

By the time she was almost done, Gendry was crying again, but there was also a tiny, happy smile on his lips. He sang the last lines of the song as she hummed.

 

"But you can be my forest love, and me your forest lass," he sang softly. He dried his tears with the back of his hand and looked at her. "Thank you."

 

"You're welcome."

 

"That's my mother's favorite song, she used to sing it to me when I was little," he remembered.

 

"It's my favorite too!" Arya assured him excitedly.

 

Gendry laughed, her excitement was oddly contagious. "She was always happy when she sang it for me."

 

"Well, what are you waiting for? Go and give her the flowers, sing for her, make her happy," Arya told him.

 

"I will," he gave her hand a little squeeze and stood up. "Thank you, m'lady, for the song and the flowers," he bowed his head a little.

 

"Don't call me that," she huffed.

 

"As m'lady commands!" He laughed again.

 

Arya wanted to kick him for teasing her, but he looked happy and amused and she thought that being called m'lady wasn't so bad after all. Horseface was a million times worse.

 

As he began to walk away, Arya wondered if she would see him again.

 

Before he went inside the hospital, he turned around and waved at her.

 

For some reason, Arya was sure she would.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Loosely based on the prompt: "Person A sees Person B crying and leaves. Later on Person A comes back with a dozen roses of Person B’s favorite color."
> 
> If you have any prompts, please feel free to share.


	31. Flowers Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reader PJ asked for a second part.
> 
> Enjoy.

 

 

Family dinners at the Stark household were always a quiet affair.

 

Well, usually.

 

"What? Absolutely not!" Arya exclaimed, dropping her knife and fork on the table.

 

"Manners, young lady," her mother reminded her.

 

 _I'm not a lady!_ Arya wanted to scream right in her mother's face.

 

"You can't make me, I wont' do it, I won't go," she threatened, crossing her arms in front of her chest and sulking. It was the best she could do.

 

"You have to. We are all going, sister," her brother Robb told her, giving her a half smile.

 

"All of us? Does that mean Jon is going too?" A quick glance at her mother's face told her the answer. "How convinient."

 

"Only _Starks_ are invited," Sansa pointed out, earning angry stares from her sister and younger brothers.

 

"Oh, how I wish I was a Snow right now!" Arya said out loud, not thinking much about the meaning behind her words.

 

"Arya!" Her mother cried, her face a mixture of pain and anger.

 

"Well done, Arya," Sansa told her, "you always know what to say."

 

Her sister's face had no expression, but she could see her smirking on the inside. Arya wanted to punch Sansa in her pretty face so it could match her ugly interior.

 

Her father, who up to this point had been completely out of the discussion, decided to intervene. "That is enough," he simply said, both his voice and face serious and tired. "You better not wish something like that again, think of Jon next time you say something like that, Arya."

 

On one hand, Arya felt truly ashamed. Jon was her best brother and she had seen more times than she could count with her fingers, how his last name and birth status had been used against him, even by his own family. On the other hand, Arya wished she had a little less shame so she could shout a couple of truths at her father.

 

The whole family continued eating in silence, but after a few minutes of relative calmness, Arya decided to speak up again.

 

"But why do I have to be paired up with someone? It's not obligatory to have a partner," Arya said, "we are not living in middle ages anymore."

 

"Sometimes it feels like it," Robb muttered, moving his food around the plate.

 

Arya looked at her brother apologetically. Robb was the eldest, the heir of Winterfell, and as such, he would have to marry more for business than for love.

 

She was the youngest daughter, with little beauty and nearly no talents to offer according to her mother and Septa's weekly reminders. She would be of little value and consequence and she was glad for it. She took a deep breath, she could do this at least. It could be worse.

 

"Fine, who am i going to be paired with?" She asked with a defeated sigh.

 

"With one of Robert Baratheon's sons," her mother replied.

 

"Are you kidding me?!" Her jaw almost hit the table. "Which one?"

 

Sansa snorted. A very unladylike sound her mother didn't seem to notice. Typical.

 

"Not Joffrey, that's for sure. He would die before taking you as his partner," Sansa said.

 

"If only," Robb wished. Sansa glared at him.

 

"Sansa," her mother shook his head disapprovingly at her eldest daughter, "don't make things worse."

 

"What girl would even want to spend time with Joffrey?" Rickon asked, looking completely confused.

 

"An stupid one, of course," Arya replied.

 

Before Sansa could shot back at Arya, her mother spoke again. "Rest assured that it's not Joffrey you are going to be paired with, it's Tommen," she gave her daughter a small smile.

 

"The fat one?"

 

All her brothers started laughing, Rickon's giggles were especially loud and Arya could see her father holding back a smile.

 

"He's not fat anymore," Bran assured her, "if that makes you feel any better."

 

"Does he still talk about cats all the time?" She asked her brother, who was in the same year as Tommen, "that's the only other thing I remember about him."

 

"Yup, that hasn't changed."

 

"Ugh, Old Gods help me!"

 

"Don't speak the gods name in vane," her mother chastised her.

 

"It's not Tommen, Arya," her father said after clearing his throat a couple of times, "it's someone else," he told her, his face free of any expression as he took a sip of wine.

 

All eyes were focused on her father now.

 

"Ned," her mother looked at her father with concern, "what are you saying?"

 

"Joffrey has only _one_ brother," Sansa added, sounding very much offended.

 

Before things could get out of hand again, her father stood up, excused himself and asked Arya to follow him to his office, leaving the rest of the family with more questions than answers.

 

*****

 

"What's going on, dad?"

 

He took a seat on the large leather couch Arya had spend many afternoons sleeping and playing in as he worked. She loved nothing more than to spend time with her father.

 

"Sit down, sweet one," he asked her.

 

She sat by his side, kicking off her shoes. "All right, you can spill the beans now."

 

Her father chuckled, Arya always knew how to put a smile on his face. "What do you know about Robert Baratheon?"

 

"Only what you have told us," she shrugged, "that you grew up together and that he was supposed to marry aunt Lyanna," she finished, leaving a lot unsaid. _And that he's a drunk and a terrible husband and father._

 

Her father heaved a deep sigh, he looked tired, but also a bit nostalgic.

 

"We were best friends," he told her, "sometimes I feel we still are," he smiled sadly. "Robert has a troubled life, the gods know he's responsible for most of his problems, but," he paused and looked at her, "he's trying to become a better person."

 

"Is he dying?" She questioned bluntly.

 

"What? No, why do you think that?"

 

"I don't know, I just . . . a lot of people only dare or want to change once they know their time is up."

 

"Well, I suppose he is sick, but it's not a disease, just guilt."

 

"Just as effective," Arya snorted. "But father, what does his guilt have to do with me and the fact I'm being forced to go to this stupid party with one of his sons?"

 

He exhaled. "The boy grew up not knowing Robert was his father and it wasn't until his foster father passed away that he learned about his origins."

 

"So he spent all his life being ignored by his father?"

 

"Robert wasn't aware of his existence until the boy turned thirteen, after that, he started to support him financially."

 

"But nothing else."

 

"No."

 

Arya frowned, the boy deserved better than having Robert as his father. "And his mother?"

 

"Passed away."

 

"Well his life sucks."

 

" _Arya._ "

 

"What? It's the truth," she said, "first his mother passes away, then his foster father, he's left alone in the world not knowing who his father is, only to find out that it's Robert Baratheon. And if that wasn't punishment enough, he has to live knowing that Joffrey is his half brother. It's cruel," she finished.

 

"Not as cruel as being alone."

 

"I'm not so sure," she muttered. "Anyway, I still don't understand what this has to do with me."

 

"The party tomorrow, it's not just a simple party," he explained, keeping his voice low, "Robert will introduce the boy as his son," he paused, "and heir."

 

Arya gasped out loud, her eyes wide open. "What about Joffrey?"

 

"This boy is his biological son, Joffrey is not."

 

She never thought she could feel pity for the little shit, but this didn't sound fair to her. "So? Joffrey was raised as his son, blood doesn't have anything to do with this."

 

"It doesn't, but Robert thinks this is the right thing to do, he feels he owes this boy."

 

Arya still thought it wasn't fair, but it wasn't her money, guilt or blood, so she decided to keep quiet. Plus, it would be fun to see Joffrey suffering for once.

 

"You didn't tell mother about this, did you?"

 

"You know how she feels about kids born out of wedlock."

 

"Poor guy, tomorrow will be a tough day for him."

 

"I'm afraid so, that's why I wish you could keep him company. I don't know much about him, but I do know he's not happy about this. He dislikes Robert as much as you dislike Joffrey."

 

"Well, I like him already," she chuckled.

 

"I'm sorry, sweet one, for bringing you into this," he apologized, "I know how uncomfortable these parties make you feel, but I could trust no one else with this."

 

Arya smiled and cuddled into her father's side. "It's all right, dad, I'll take care of him."

 

"Thank you, little wolf."

 

She hugged her father and inhaled his scent, as she always did. "You're welcome, papa wolf."

 

Her father held her close to him as he laughed.

 

"What's his name by the way?"

 

"Gendry."

 

She frowned, she thought she had heard that name before, but couldn't remember from where.

 

*****

 

Arya stood at the top of the stairs that led to the big garden, where the party was being held, and looked around.

 

The crowd was busy drinking, chatting and judging, and she hoped she would be able to spend most of the night away from their prying eyes.

 

Her little brothers ran downstairs much to her mother's chagrin, who had to rush behind them, her brother Robb was quickly dragged to the dance floor by Myrcella Baratheon, and her sister captured all stares for a moment before she was led down the stairs by Joffrey and his mother. For once, Arya was grateful for having a sister who was always the center of attention.

 

"You look lovely, little wolf," her father told her, before he pressed a kiss to her temple.

 

Arya huffed, "I look like a ghost, with all this white."

 

"A very real ghost," her father whispered.

 

"What did you say?"

 

"Nothing, nothing," he shook his head. "You look beautiful, you remind me so much of your aunt Lyanna."

 

The look on her father's eyes was sad and honest. Arya never knew exactly what to feel whenever her father mentioned her similarities to her aunt Lyanna, but she knew this wasn't the best moment to figure it out.

 

"Well, you know, it's the Stark look," she joked.

 

"It's more than that, sweet one," he smiled at her. "Have fun."

 

"I'll try," she promised him. "Dad, wait, where's . . ." she was left speaking to herself, "my partner."

 

_Well, here goes nothing._

 

She walked around the garden, hoping Robert's newfound son would find her, but after fifteen minutes of wandering around and looking like an idiot without purpose, she decided it was best if she walked away and found herself a place where she could sit and hide.

 

She sat in one of those wrap around tree benches and waited. For what, she wasn't sure.

 

"For m'lady."

 

The unknown voice sent a shiver down her spine. It wasn't a bad feeling, on the contrary, it made her feel nervously excited.

 

She looked up and the first thing she saw was a small bouquet of white and yellow flowers. She felt like she had lived this before. She took the flowers from the stranger's hand as she met his eyes.

 

She knew those eyes, she was sure.

 

"Thank you, they are pretty," she finally said.

 

"You are welcome. May I sit?"

 

"Sure."

 

"I'm sorry for making you wait."

 

A soft frown marked her expression. "Gendry?"

 

He nodded, smiling shyly at her.

 

"I'm sorry but, have we met before?" She asked him, tilting her head to the side.

 

He chuckled. "Perhaps."

 

"Perhaps?" She scowled.

 

"Are you hungry?" He stood up, changing the subject abruptly. "The food looks good," he said, pointing behind him.

 

"Wait wait wait, hold on," she stopped him. "We have seen each other before, haven't we?"

 

"We have, m'lady."

 

"Why do you keep calling me-"

 

And then it dawn on her.

 

"You . . . you are the boy from the hospital, aren't you?"

 

"Yes, m'lady . . . Arya."

 

Her body reacted first than her mind and before she knew, she had her arms wrapped around him. "I knew I would see you again," she smiled as she felt his hands on her waist.

 

They stood there for a while, holding onto each other, until she pulled herself away from him to see his face again.

 

"I can't believe it's you."

 

"I know," he looked at her tenderly.

 

She blused and, for a moment, she couldn't meet his eyes. "You still remember, after all this time," she told him, looking at the flowers.

 

"How could I forget? Your flowers put a smile on my mother's face."

 

"I'm sorry, you must miss her so much." 

 

"I do," he sighed. "But we should go back," he suggested with very little enthusiasm, "they are waiting for us."

 

"Who?"

 

"Robert and your father."

 

"Oh . . . let's go back then," she agreed.

 

They walked side by side, taking quick glances at each other, each one doing their best to keep their emotions at bay.

 

"Nervous?"

 

"Not really," he shook his head.

 

"Scared?"

 

"Yeah."

 

"Don't be, they don't bite."

 

"Are you sure?"

 

"Not really, but I'll protect you if they try."

 

He laughed. "I'm just not sure if I'm doing the right thing."

 

"I guess you'll have to take the risk to find out."

 

"I guess," he looked up. "It looks like it's going to rain."

 

"It does," she bit her lip. "C'mon, let's get this over with," she winked at him.

 

He smiled and offered his arm to her. "Ready, m'lady?"

 

"Ready."

 

The storm began long before any announcement was made, but it didn't rain that night.

 

 


	32. Honor (BWB AU 4)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just want to let you know the working title for this was "Cock." Thankfully, the reasonable (and less vulgar) side of my brain said no.

 

It was long past midnight, but Arya Stark could not fall asleep.

 

She kept moving on her bed, resting on her right side, then on her back, and again on her right side. Her mind was restless and her body was itching to get up from the bed and run out of her chamber.

 

Something was missing, something was wrong, and she knew exactly what.

 

Four weeks had passed since Lem had found her sleeping in Gendry's cot . . . with Gendry. The threats, shouts and warnings that followed, in Arya's opinion, had been completely unnecessary and out of hand, for she was a woman grown and Lem wasn't her father. Moreover, she and Gendry had done nothing wrong or terrible, unless kissing and hugging was now considered a crime.

 

Arya did some shouting of her own that day too, calling out the brothers' double morals, but it had been of no use. Lem did the talking and Beric the sentence, and since then, her hours had become dull and painfully long.

 

She was still allowed to ride with Harwin, train with Anguy and go on short trips with the rest of the brotherhood, but she was not allowed to be alone with Gendry, not even near him.

 

They were kept apart during the brotherhood's journeys around the Riverlands, they were not allowed to speak to each other unless there was someone else present, and she had been prohibited from visiting him in the forge no matter if it was day or night. They were not even allowed to sit near each other while they were taking their meals. The situation was extremely unfair and she was completely furious, and Gendry wasn't happy either, especially when it was Ned Dayne's turn to take the role of her guardian.

 

 _Guard me from what?_ she often asked herself. If they thought they had been succesful in keeping Gendry's hands and lips away from her, they were wrong, see had made sure their plans failed from the very start.

 

She had always been good at sneaking out of places and situations, even when she was just a little girl, and her skills had only improved during her time living in King's Landing. Acorn Hall was nothing compared to the Red Keep and Lady Smallwood was no Septa Mordane, so escaping from the keep during the night to visit Gendry was no challenge for her.

 

This, however, changed after Lem had the wonderful idea of posting one member of the Brotherhood out of her chamber every night for as long as they remained in Acorn Hall. Most of the brothers complained about it, they were not happy with the idea of wasting a few nights of good and proper sleep guarding the chamber of a girl who wasn't at risk of anything but her own pleasure. In the end, only Ned and Harwin had accepted the proposal and thanks to them, Arya had now spent four days and four nights without speaking more than two words to Gendry.

 

And she had had enough.

 

_Fuck it!_

 

She jumped off the bed, put on her fur coat, strapped Needle to her waist and got ready for a new sort of challenge.

 

She walked barefoot towards the door, boots hanging from her right hand, and opened it slowly, careful of not making any noise, hoping the wood wouldn't creak and praying it was Harwin's turn to guard her door.

 

Arya thanked the gods when she found it was indeed Harwin who was guarding her chamber. Though using the word guarding was a bit of a stretch since he was snoring deeply, stinking of beer and missing his worn out doublet. _He definitely had fun tonight,_ Arya considered with smile.

 

Once she thought she was safe, she put on her boots and reciting all of Syrio's teachings in her head, she managed to sneak out the keep one more time.

 

She was very careful, moving fast and quietly, as she crossed the courtyard towars the forge. The last thing she wanted was to get Gendry in trouble again. As much as she knew Gendry wanted her, even if he still sometimes acted shy and stupid around her, Lem's threats and Lord Beric's warnings had put a new kind of strain in their relationship and, as a result, Gendry tried harder than ever to protect her virtue and his neck by staying away from her.

 

She found the situation annoying and even exciting at first, but Gendry felt different. He was worried about her honor, her name, her position and he did not want to risk his place within the Brotherhood. Arya had tried her best to convince him that no one cared about her name or honor anymore and, most importantly, that she didn't care about what other people had to say about her either, but he was too stubborn and honorable for his own good, and she could not hate or blame him for wanting to protect both her reputation and his newfound sense of duty and belonging.

 

 _I hope he didn't lock his door,_ she thought, as she got closer to the entrance of the forge. She looked back at the keep once, before she pushed the old wooden door slowly, careful of making as little noise as possible. She was surprised to find that there was still some warmth lingering inside the place. Gendry must had been working until very late hours.

 

She thanked the old gods when she found his door unlocked. Still, she would have to reprimand him later for being so careless.

 

It took her eyes a moment to adjust to the darkness and when they finally did, she was surprised and pleased with what she found.

 

Gendry was sleeping on his stomach, barely convered by a blanket . . . and naked.

 

Arya bit her lip. She had seen all kinds of men nude before, Gendry included, but she had never been alone with one, especially not with one who wasn't aware he was being stared at, one that looked like Gendry did.

 

His arms were corded with muscle and his back was wide and strong. _There's no training for this,_ she told herself, as she found difficult to force her eyes away from his body, and she continued admiring him in silence. His legs were hairy and long, with thick tighs and defined calves. She couldn't help but wonder how different he would look under the sunlight as her eyes traveled up his legs. She gulped once her sight met his arse, what she could see of it. It was round, plump and the skin was lighter there than in the rest of his body, and . . . Arya turned around abruptly. This wasn't right. He was nice to look at, both her mind and heart agreed, but she knew she had no right to look at him like this. If she was in his position, she would be upset, or so she thought.

 

Arya shook her head and pushed away her thoughts. She had come here with a purpose. She needed to talk to him and perhaps kiss him one or twice, nothing else.

 

She moved closer to the cot and placed needle over a wooden crate Gendry used as his nightstand. Very carefully, she pulled the blanket to cover most of his body and then she took off her boots and coat, she squeezed herself by Gendry's side and put her hand on his shoulder, shaking him a little.

 

"Gendry, wake up, I need to talk to you," she whispered softly.

 

He grunted a couple of times, babbled some words she couldn't undertand and sighed. He was probably too tired to wake up or perhaps he was dreaming. Arya felt sorry, but she really needed to talk to him.

 

"Gendry," she shook him by his shoulder again, "wake up."

 

He groaned and opened his sleepy eyes. "Arya?" he whispered with a smile.

 

"Yes, it's me."

 

He then smiled the most stupid smile she had ever seen and she was about to tease him for it, but his arm around her waist and the feeling of his hard cock against her hip took her words away. And when he started to nuzzle the skin of her neck, she knew she was lost.

 

"Gen-Gendry . . . I . . ." _Who is the stupid now?_ She wondered, while Gendry continued to press his body against hers, caressing and squeezing her sides.

 

"I'll dress you . . ." he started to say before he began sucking gently on her skin.

 

Arya shivered. "I'm dressed, stupid," she told him, "you're the one who is naked."

 

"All in yellow silk . . ." He spoke again, between pauses he used to press kisses on her jaw.

 

She frowned. "What? Silk is the most stupid fabric," she said, too caught up in his touches to explain properly how wool or leather would be more useful.

 

"I'll always keep you warm and safe . . ." he assured her, moving his left hand up and down her body, "and guard you with my sword," he continued saying as his hand went to touch one of her breasts. His hand remained there for some time, caressing, tweaking softly the skin over the fabric of her night gown.

 

"You don't have a sword, you use a hammer," she barely managed to say. Arya could feel her nipples growing hard under his touch and she had to shut her legs close together to relieve some of the tension she was feeling between them.

 

The sensations were new, raw and exciting, and she wanted to feel more.

 

"My forest lass," he mumbled and placed himself on top of her.

 

She frowned, he had never call her that way, was he even talking about her?

 

And then it hit her, he was singing Tom's stupid song in his sleep, he was dreaming and she wanted nothing more than throwing him off the the bed and kick him right between his legs, but it was impossible. He was heavy and he had trapped her under his body.

 

She was so stupid.

 

A few minutes later, he was snoring deeply again and Arya was left with a kind of frustration she had never experienced before. She felt a terrible hunger, but it wasn't for food. The very bottom of her belly felt heavy and her legs were all weak and numb. She could still feel the thickness of his cock against her thigh and the beating of his heart on her very own chest.

 

_Why did he had to fall asleep?_

 

She heaved a deep sigh and managed to free one of her arms. She ran her fingers through his thick black hair and then down and across his upper back. Gendry let out a couple of soft moans and moved off of her eventually, but didn't let her go. He kept her arm around her all night and his chest pressed closely to her back.

 

 _I'll talk to him in the morning,_ that was Arya's last thought before she fell asleep.

 

*****

 

It was very early in the morning when Arya felt Gendry waking up behind her.

 

"Your cock kept poking me during the night," she told him gruffly, "and it's making my arse uncomfortable now, do something!"

 

"Arya?"

 

She could hear the concern and confusion in his voice and she had to bite the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing. She turned around in his arms and scowled at him, "Of course it's me, stupid! Were you expecting someone else?"

 

"N-No," he shook his head and then looked down his body, where his hard cock was making a tent under the covers. "Fuck!"

 

He sat up abruptly, moving towards the edge of the bed and pulling the blanket with him. Before he could stand up, Arya moved to sit behind him and placed her arms around his chest.

 

Gendry was doing his best to get rid of his stiff cock, but he froze as soon as he felt her arms around him.

 

"It's not like I haven't seen it before," she reminded him, "you don't have to be shy," she said softly, pressing a kiss on his shoulder before resting her chin there. She didn't want to look down, but she did, hoping to get another glimpse of his manhood and hating herself for it.

 

"I'm not shy," he assured her, "you know I have nothing to be ashamed of," he said smugly.

 

"Stupid," her lips curled against his shoulder.

 

"Why did you come?" He asked her seriously. "If they find you here, Lem will chop off my cock and they will probably marry you off to Dayne to save your virtue."

 

"First, I would never allow Lem near your cock," she told him, "and second, Ned is too scared of me, he would never marry me."

 

"He would if Beric makes him."

 

"I want to see him try," she said. "Are you angry with me? I just wanted to see you, talk to you, it's been so long since we had a proper conversation."

 

Gendry placed one of his hands on top of hers that were crossed over his chest. His other hand held the blanket securely over his manhood. "I'm not angry with you," he shook his head, "I'm afraid," he confessed with a sigh.

 

"Of what? Not of me I hope," she chuckled.

 

"No," he smiled. "I'm scared of not being able to control myself around you, m'lady."

 

"Oh . . ." she blushed and bit her lip. Her heart was beating fast.

 

"You have no idea how much I want you, the things I want to do with you."

 

"Tell me," she asked him.

 

He turned around a little and smiled at her, their noses almost touching. "No, I don't want to give you any ideas."

 

She pouted. "I have some ideas of my own, you know? I don't need yours."

 

"Oh really? Like what?"

 

"I won't tell you," she gave him a wolfish grin, "but I can show you."

 

Her hands started to travel down his chest and over his stomach, and she grinned triumphantly as she felt how his heart started beating faster and his breathing became erractic. She kept moving her hands slowly, they made it as far as the dark curls at the top of his mandhood began, barely under the blanket, before he stopped her. She was about to protest, but Gendry silenced her by pressing his eager lips to hers.

 

He kissed her hungrily, lovingly, and she enjoyed every second of it. Their kisses so far had been sweet, rushed and even shy sometimes, but this one was completely different. It was passionate and rough, but not without tenderness.

 

Arya wished he would, at least, let her know what sort of things he wanted to do with her. And she hoped he would soon give her the opportunity to try all the things she wanted to experience with him.

 

They eventually broke their kiss apart with a loud, wet sound, and they remained looking at each other, a foolish smile on each one of their faces as they tried to catch their own breaths.

 

Amidst the chaos, the tragedies that brought them together and the problems that still threatened them, for the very first time in a very long time, they were genuinely happy.

 

Gendry pecked the corner of her lips and then pressed his forehead against hers. "You will be the death of me, you know?"

 

She shrugged. "Then you'll have good death," she smiled.

 

He laughed and placed a kiss on her forehead, cupping her long face between his hands, the blanket long forgotten. "Next time you visit me during the night, make sure to wake me up so I can put on some clothes."

 

"I tried to wake you up several times," she huffed, "but you sleep like a log."

 

"Sorry, m'lady," he apologized.

 

"Honestly, I don't understand what the big fuss is all about. I've seen plenty of men naked before. I've seen _you_ naked before, you even offered to show me your cock once, do you remember?"

 

Gendry got a pained look on his face. "Don't remind me," he let go of her to rub his hands over his forehead.

 

"Of what? That I've seen other men naked before or that you offered to show me your cock?"

 

"Both," he told her.

 

"I can make things even," she said, pulling one strap of her night gown down her shoulder.

 

Gendry gave her an alarmed look and quickly pulled the strap back in place. "No, you won't."

 

"Coward," she muttered.

 

"I'm sorry, m'lady, I have to protect my honor, us bastards don't have much of it."

 

Arya rolled her eyes. "Don't worry, next time I sleep here, I'll place Needle between us, your honor will be safe with me."

 

He laughed and stood up from the bed, wrapping the blanket around his lower body. Arya caught a glimpse of his arse and she had to bite her lip. It was so tempting.

 

"Hurry, m'lady, you have to go back before the brothers wake up."

 

Arya groaned and let herself fall back on the cot. "It's not fair, they can sleep, whore around and do as they like, and I can't even talk to you alone!" She exclaimed angrily.

 

Gendry sat on the edge of the cot as he finished putting on his breeches. Arya moved so her head could rest on top of his thigh.

 

"Lem won't stop until Beric marries you off to someone who can protect your honor," he said sadly. "He won't be happy until he knows you are properly wedded and bedded," he finished, sounding almost resigned.

 

Arya, on the other hand, sat up in one quick, sudden movement. She was looking at him with a strange look, one that was almost scary.

 

"W-What?" He asked her nervously. The expression on her face could only mean trouble.

 

"You, stupid, are a genious," she pressed a kiss to his lips and quickly put on her boots.

 

"Arya?"

 

"I'm going now, I have to get ready," she strapped Needle to her waist and picked her coat from the floor.

 

"Ready for what?"

 

"You'll see," she winked at him.

 

"Arya, what are you planning to do?"

 

"Make sure Lem won't bother us anymore."

 

And with that she closed the door, leaving a very confused Gendry behind.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by bookskitten prompt: "Gendry, your hard cock is really making my ass uncomfortable. Solve it." 
> 
> I think this didn't turn out as you expected, lol. Sorry, Flavia!


	33. Wenda

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Excuse the mistakes.

 

 

"Arya?" Gendry asked softly, rubbing the sleep off his eyes. "What's going on?"

 

She looked at him from where she was sitting on the floor of their small living room. "Oh, did I wake you up? Sorry," she apologized.

 

"No," he shook his head, "it's just that the bed feels cold and empty . . ." he trailed off, giving her his best puppy eye look.

 

Arya chuckled. "Well, you better put on some clothes and hug my pillow, I'm not going back to bed."

 

"Why?" He groaned. "What did I do?"

 

"You did nothing, silly," she laughed.

 

"Then why are you here and not in bed with me?"

 

"It's Nym," she said, holding onto one of her dog's big paws, "I think she's gonna give birth tonight," she smiled at him.

 

"Really?"

 

"Yeah," she gave her tired dog a symphatetic look. "She woke me up and led me here, I think she wants some company," she looked at him again.

 

"Is she okay?" Gendry asked with concern, walking closer to them. "Should we call the vet?"

 

"She's doing fine so far," she told him, "her breathing is coming faster, but I read that is normal, we should keep the vet's number on dial though, just in case."

 

Gendry nodded and walked back to their bedroom. He returned a couple of minutes later, wearing some loose pants and a white undershirt and holding a small blanket on his hand.

 

Arya looked at him with curiousity.

 

"For the pups," he said, easily reading her expression. "To keep them warm."

 

She gave him a loving smile as he sat by her side and pressed a kiss on her lips.

 

"We are becoming parents tonight."

 

"Grandparents," Arya corrected him.

 

"I don't know, I don't feel that old yet," he laughed.

 

"Aunt and uncle then," Arya said with a smile.

 

"That sounds better," he agreed. "Hey girl," he rubbed Nymeria's head lovingly, "are you scared?"

 

The dog was wild and dangerous, but she always turned into a big softie whenever Gendry talked to her with a tender tone of voice. And it seemed as if she had understood exactly what he asked her since she whined softly and licked his hand twice, giving him the most precious puppy eyes.

 

Arya couldn't help but wonder if Gendry had learned that look from her dog, they spent a lot of time together after all. She often thought Nymeria felt some sort of ownership over Gendry, especially on those days when she would spend the day glued to his side, not even letting Arya get too close to him.

 

"How many puppies do you think she'll have?" Gendry asked, pulling Arya out of her thoughts.

 

"Most big breeds have eight puppies or more, but she's more wolf than dog," she scratched the top of her dog's nose, "wolves have around five pups, but the vet said Nym will probIaly have only one or two," she finished.

 

"One or ten, we'll take care of them," Gendry assured the dog, then he leaned closer to Arya and whispered on her ear. "Who do you think it's the father?"

 

Arya rolled her eyes and elbowed him softly. "Stupid."

 

"No, I'm honestly curious, Nym has always been protective and loving, but we all saw how she acted whenever dogs got too close to her."

 

"They were probably stupid dogs," Arya shrugged. "Nym woulnd't have left just any dog mount her, her mate must have been fierce and strong," she paused, "and handsome," she chuckled.

 

"Fierce, strong and handsome, you two have the same taste in partners," Gendry joked.

 

"No," she shook her head, "unlike me, I'm sure she doesn't like stupid bulls."

 

"You're so hurtful, m'lady," Gendry placed a hand over his chest. "Stupid or not, you still love me anyway."

 

Arya sighed. "Yeah, I do."

 

Suddenly, Nymeria stood up, and started moving in circles around her large bed.

 

"What's going on?" He asked.

 

"I think she's having contractions." Arya felt really sorry for her dog, she couldn't even imagine the pain she was going through. She pondered if she would ever want to go through the same experience.

 

One hour later, Nymeria was ready to push.

 

"C'mon, Nym!" Arya encouraged her, "you can do it, girl."

 

The dog was resting on her side, breathing faster than ever. She whined a couple of times and before they knew, the pup was out.

 

Both smiled in relief and looked at each other, happy that the pain was over for Nym and that the pup looked fine.

 

"It looks exactly like Nym when she was a puppy," Arya said.

 

"What is it? Boy or girl?" Gendry asked excitedly.

 

"I can't tell." Arya was curious, but she did not want to touch the pup yet, she knew Nymeria had the right to take care of her baby first.

 

The dog stood again and moved fast to lick the pup, eating the bits of placenta and cleaning the fur in the process. She licked and nuzzled softly the pup's tummy several times, but the pup did not respond. It wasn't moving.

 

"Something's wrong," Arya noticed immediately. "Gendry, call the vet!"

 

Gendry stood up and ran for the phone, wasting no time.

 

Nymeria continued nuzzling the pup, licking its little body, but it looked completely lifeless. She looked at Arya and whined.

 

Arya understood the look of total despair in her dog's face. Those who claimed animals had no feelings were totally wrong. Arya took the pup in her hands and did the only thing that felt logical to her. She closed her mouth around the pup's mouth and nose and blowed two little puffs of air into it.

 

She leaned back and tried again, blowing one more little puff of air and hoping for the best.

 

When the pup shook its head and whined softly, Arya burst out in tears. Nymeria immediately moved close to her side and began licking the pup all over again.

 

"Gendry!" Arya yelled.

 

When he came back to the living room and found Arya crying, holding the little pup close to her, Gendry thought the worst.

 

"Oh Arya, I'm sorry," he said.

 

"No, stupid," she smiled, "the pup is fine, look!"

 

Gendry ran to her side and sat close to her. The cute puppy was moving its little paws up and down and sticking its tongue out. "I think it's hungry," he said.

 

" _She_ ," Arya remarked, "she is hungry."

 

"Now I'll be surrounded by she wolves," he chuckled.

 

She pressed a kiss on his cheek. "You better behave."

 

"I always do."

 

She gave him a smile and then she looked at her dog. "Look how pretty your pup is, Nym." Nymeria licked Arya's face several times, making her laugh. "It's okay, girl," Arya said to her dog, "you don't have to thank me. Here," Arya placed the hungry pup on the bed, "you must feed your baby."

 

Nymeria nuzzled her pup once more before Arya helped the little one to reach her mom's teat. The puppy wasted no time latching to it and started sucking hungrily, pressing her little paws against the skin. Nymeria gave her pup a few more licks and then settled her head down on the bed, heaving a deep sigh.

 

"You did great, Nym," Gendry petted Nymeria softly.

 

"We should take the pup to the vet in the morning, just to make sure she's fine," Arya suggested.

 

Gendry nodded. "She looks fine to me, but you're right, it's better to be safe than sorry," he chuckled, "look how fat she is."

 

"She's not fat," Arya sounded offended, "that's just a milk belly."

 

"Just like your food belly," he told her, poking her sides.

 

"Shut up, stupid," Arya threw a playful glare at him.

 

They remained by Nymeria's side for another hour, waiting for her to give birth to another pup, but that did not happen. After the pup stopped eating and fell asleep cuddled close to her mother, Arya decided it was time for them to go back to bed. Each one would take turns every two hours to make sure both mother and daughter were fine and early in the morning they would take the pup for a check up at the vet.

 

*****

 

As soon as Arya opened her eyes she realized she had slept through the night and most of the morning.

 

"Fuck!"

 

She sat up and the first thing she noticed was that Gendry wasn't there. Arya was both thankful and angry because he didn't wake her up.

 

"Gendry, why the-" she quickly shut her mouth and smiled before the sweet scene she had just discovered.

 

Gendry was sitting on the floor and deeply asleep, his back pressed against the wall. He had wrapped the blanket carefully around the puppy who was comfortably resting on top of his chest. Arya chuckled when she noticed a bit of spit rolling down the corner of his mouth while the puppy had the cutest milk mustache.

 

Nymeria was nowhere to be seen, but she didn't worry, the sounds she could hear were enough to tell her where her dog was and what she was doing. Arya poked her head inside the kitchen and found her big dog ravenously eating all the food on her plate.

 

"Try to chew a little, Nym," she said, "you don't want to choke."

 

Her dog paid her no attention and she went back to the living room, where Gendry was still sleeping.

 

She kneeled by his side, caressed the top of the puppy's head with her index finger and pressed a soft kiss on Gendry's forehead. He shook his body a litttle, but didn't wake up, and carefully tightened his hold on the puppy. Even in his sleep, he was still protective.

 

Looking at him, Arya considered he would make a great father one day.

 

 _Father to your children?_ Her brain decided to ask her.

 

Arya did not want to think about that now. Not when Gendry looked all handsome and stupidly cute with a puppy in his arms, and especially not now that her period was coming and her ovaries were doing a mess of her feelings.

 

But maybe, one day, they would have a black haired boy and a grey eyed girl to love and take care of. Their very own pups. Their pack.

 

Arya smiled at the thought of a chubby little boy who looked exactly like Gendry riding on Nymeria's back.

 

"What's with the silly smile?" Gendry asked her, smiling sleepily at her.

 

"Shut up, stupid!" Arya exclaimed defensively, but the blush on her cheeks was pretty evident.

 

"Liar," Gendry called her, "were you checking me out?"

 

"You wish!" She took the pup from his arms and cuddled her close to her chest, taking a seat on the couch.

 

Gendry stretched out his arms and craned his neck from side to side, relieving some of the tension. He then plopped himself on the couch, just by Arya's side. "What are we going to call her?"

 

Nymeria came back to the living room and let her head rest over Gendry's lap. He scratched the top of her head and rubbed her nose a few times.

 

"I thought Visenya would be a good name," as she said this, Nymeria growled a little, "but she looks more like a Wenda to me."

 

Nymeria barked excitedly, making them laugh.

 

"I think Nym agrees with me."

 

"Nymeria, Visenya, Wenda," Gendry listed, "I'm starting to notice a pattern here, I wonder what you will call our children," he casually commented, not a hint of mischief or mockery in his voice or expression.

 

"What did you say?"

 

Gendry's eyes went wide, as if he had finally realized what he said. "Nothing," he shook his head.

 

"I heard you," Arya grinned.

 

She moved closer to him and placed her head over his shoulder, his arm automatically moved to surround her and bring her closer to him. Nymeria soon joined them on the couch.

 

"When we have kids, I'll let you make some suggestions for their names, I promise," she whispered softly, smiling.

 

Gendry pressed a kiss to her forehead. "I'll hold you to that promise."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!


	34. Grumkins

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Set in the same universe as the "Autumn" series.
> 
> Enjoy!

 

Gendry woke up in the middle of the night after a long and pleasant dream.

 

He had dreamt of his mother, something that didn't happen very often and that he treasured. Growing up, he always wondered why she made so little appearances in his dreams and, usually, he put the blame on the short amount of years they had been allowed to spent together. _The less memories you have of the person, the less dreams you have of them,_ he rationalized, but that did not help much to ease the pain her absense made him feel.

 

This dream, however, had been even more special than the others, since he had actually heard her voice. In the dream, his mother had been singing one of the songs he loved so much as a child, but this time the song wasn't meant for him, but his children.

 

When Gendry finally opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was Arya's lovely face a few inches away from his.

 

He smiled, though the distance between them did not make him happy since he was used to have her close to him. She always managed to find a place to rest near him, and that was the best part of his nights, feeling his wife's warm and lovely body pressed closely to his, being able to smell her scent, being able to fall asleep to the rhythm of her heart beat.

 

But Arya had made it very clear for the last month that she did not want him anywhere near her, especially at night. She had been feeling sore and tired for a while now, and the time to sleep was especially uncomfortable for her. She hadn't been sleeping much lately, the extra weight and her big belly made it difficult for her to find a position in which she could rest comfortably, so he could not blame her for not wanting him close to her.

 

He was half responsible for her big belly after all. He wasn't sorry for that though. Neither of them were.

 

His left arm had gone numb, so slowly and very carefully, he started to move until he was lying on his back. The last thing he wanted was to wake her up and face her wrath. A pregnant Arya was ten times scarier, her wolf blood was much more evident during her pregnancies.

 

Arya often joked that their wolf blooded babies were responsible for that.

 

Gendry closed his eyes again, hoping he would fall asleep quickly, but a couple of minutes later, the distinctive sound of tiny feet hitting the wooden floor of their bedroom put him on alert and let him know he wasn't going to sleep any time soon.

 

He half opened one of his eyes to see a small figure moving closer to the bed. Gendry smiled inwardly and continued pretending to be asleep

 

The covers were being pulled down and he could feel the mattress sinking a little as his daughter moved up the bed. He hoped Arya would be able to sleep through whatever their little girl had in mind.

 

He felt a cold hand hitting softly his chest.

 

"Daddy, wake up"

 

He didn't reply.

 

"Daddy, are you asleep?" Arra whispered on his ear.

 

"Not anymore," he grunted. "What are you doing here, Arra?"

 

"Daddy, I don't mean to scare you, but I saw a grumkin outside my window."

 

"Really?" He asked her without opening his eyes.

 

"Yes. And I'm sure it's trying to get inside the house."

 

"Don't worry, I made sure to lock all the windows last night, go back to bed."

 

"I can't."

 

"Why? Are you scared?" He looked at her this time.

 

Arra huffed. "Of course not!" She exclaimed, looking offended.

 

Gendry shushed her, placing his index finger in front of his lips. "Mommy needs to rest."

 

Arra copied his gesture and lowered her voice. "I'm here for mommy and the baby," she whispered, "they need to be protected from the grumkin," she told him.

 

He smiled. His little girl was all Arya, maybe with a pinch of his stubborn self.

 

"Uncle Rickon told me grumkins like to eat babies."

 

"He told you that?"

 

She nodded.

 

"Did you believe him?"

 

She shrugged. "I just don't want anything bad to happen to the baby," she said softly, looking down, "Daena's baby brother went to heaven when he was still in his mommy's belly," she finished with a sad expression on her face.

 

Gendry's heart ached for his daughter and he wasted no time to comfort her. He wrapped his arms around her and brought her close to him.

 

"You are a very brave little girl, you know?"

 

She nodded against his chest, he could feel the wetness of her tears as they hit his skin.

 

"I promise you nothing bad will happen to the baby or your mother," he assured her.

 

"But how can you know?"

 

His daughter was too smart for her own good.

 

"Well, because we have someone very special in heaven who is always looking after us," he said.

 

"Who?" She looked up at him, curiosity written all over her face.

 

"My mother," he smiled.

 

"Grandmommy will take care of them too?" His daughter gave him a toothy grin.

 

He nodded.

 

Arra rested her head on his chest again and sighed. "She lives closer to god, I'm sure she asks him to take care of the baby every day."

 

"I'm sure she does."

 

"I wish I had met her," she spoke softly.

 

"I wish she had met you, too," Gendry said, holding back tears.

 

"I'm going to sleep, perhaps I'll dream with her. Night, daddy," she muttered sleepily.

 

A tear rolled down his temple as he pressed a kiss on the top of her head. "Good night, sweet one."

 

*

 

When Gendry woke up in the morning, he found his daughter tightly wrapped in Arya's arms.

 

Arra had her little hand placed protectively over her mother's belly and her cheek was barely pressed against it.

 

As Gendry looked at his wife and daughter's protective embraces and fierce sleeping expressions, a big smile appeared on his face.

 

The grumkins better be afraid of his she-wolves.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As usual, I blame bookskitten for this one.


	35. Drowning Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this in less than thirty minutes so it's (probably) shit, but at least I was able to write again.

 

 

Long before the human even realized a storm was forming in the distance, Arya knew he was going to drown.

 

He was not a good swimmer, of that she was sure. Humans were not meant to last long in the water and this one was afraid of it, which only made things worse for him.

 

She couldn't understand what he was doing in such a small boat so far from the shore, but then, humans were not very bright creatures. They were foolish, weird looking things that deserved very little of her sympathy.

 

She decided to keep an eye on him and she wasn't sure why. She watched him as he noticed the approaching storm. She swam in circles around him as the rain fell hard and filled his little boat in a short amount of time.

 

Arya smiled wickedly as she saw him struggle, trying his best to keep the boat afloat.

 

 _Serves him right,_ she thought.

 

Humans knew nothing but destruction, and they had been destroying her home and taking its treasures for far too long. It was only fair that the sea claimed something in retribution.

 

She observed him as his eyes filled with panic. She was familiar with that look. It was something both men and merfolk had in common. Fear made no distinction.

 

 _This one is stubborn,_ she considered. Most men gave up pretty easily, but this one was different. He was fighting to stay alive, holding onto a piece of wood with all his might.

 

One big wave pulled the wood out of his hands, but he kept on fighting until the very end. Arya moved closer to him as his life started to slipped away.

 

She got close enough to touch and she gasped out loud as the man pulled himself up one more time, meeting her eyes in the process.

 

"Help me! Please!" He pleaded.

 

The man tried to reach for her but she moved away from him before he could hold onto her.

 

His desperate, blue eyes met her cold, grey ones one more time before he stoppped struggling.

 

*

 

She couldn't understand why she had been so careless and stupid enough to save him, to take him all the way to the nearest shore and risk her safety in the process.

 

She couldn't explain why she kept looking at him, touching him, exploring his body with curious and eager fingers.

 

 _Perhaps the gods wanted me to have him,_ she tried to justify her decision.

 

The sea had taken most of his clothes off and she had gotten rid of the rest. His body was mostly covered in thick black hair just as hers was covered in grey scales.

 

She had never touched a man before and she was sure she would never do it again after this, so she made the most of it.

 

She ran her fingers over his face, tracing the lines marked on his skin. He was young, not much older than she was, possibly around her older brothers' age, but he appeared to be older. Even in his unconscious state, he looked scared and tired. She almost felt sorry for him as she continued to ran her hands over his chest, his firm stomach, his narrow hips.

 

She pulled down the clothes that covered his legs and giggled. He had the weirdest thing between his legs. She had never seen something like it before. It was long and floppy and it hanged to one side.

 

Tails were, by far, prettier than what this man had at the top of his legs.

 

Curiosity took the best of her and before she knew, she had her hand wrappped around it. She was surprised by how smooth and soft the skin was even if he had a mat of coarse hair at the base.

 

Arya frowned as the thing started to grow big and hard and she wondered if this was the result of magic. She touched the two soft pebbles under it and squeezed them a little, but she had to let go of them as the man moaned and his weird looking thing started to twitch.

 

She quickly pulled his clothes up and hovered over him, the water was starting to cover more of her tail. It was getting late and she had to go back home, though this time she would not tell anyone about this encounter, not even to Old Nan.

 

But first she had to make sure he was wide awake before she left, otherwise he would end up drowned as the tide rose and her effort to save him proved to be useless.

 

"Wake up, you stupid!" She asked him, slapping his cheek softly a few times. She shook his shoulder, hit his chest, but got nothing in response.

 

She was growing impatient and her impatience was usually followed by annoyance.

 

She had ran out of ideas when the most stupid thought crossed her mind.

 

_Should I kiss him?_

 

Her sister had the most disturbing preference for human tales and in plenty of them, a kiss from the prince would break the spell that had kept the princess asleep for years.

 

She wasn't a princess though, not even human. And this man looked nothing like the princes described in her sister's stories. Still, it was worth a try.

 

She bit her lip and looked at him. She hadn't even kissed a merman and now he was about to kiss a man who, more likely than not, wanted none of her kisses and would kill her if he had the chance.

 

Arya leaned down slowly, placing her hand on his cheek to bring his lips closer to hers.

 

As her mouth closed on his, the oddest feeling of warmth ran up and down her body and, before she knew, she was eagerly parting her lips to taste more of him and biting on his.

 

All of a sudden, she started to choke and she coughed to get rid of the intrusion she felt on her throat. After three coughs a large, stark white pearl came out of her mouth. It was her turn to panic.

 

The stupid, shiny pearl could only mean one thing.

 

She had found her one true love.

 

 _What have you done, Arya?_ She asked herself.

 

"M'lady?"

 

Arya turned to look at the man's confused and handsome face.

 

He was awake now and he was hers.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For bookskitten, who was kind enough to give me a prompt that brought my muse back from her extended vacation. ¬_¬


	36. Home

 

 

When Gendry arrived at the airport and Arya was nowhere to be found, he was disappointed but not surprised.

 

He had been released of his duties by a combination of mere chance and pure luck. It had been unexpected and he had barely managed to pack his things and send a message to Arya before getting on the plane that would take him back home.

 

It was still very early in the morning and Arya wasn't the kind of person who slept with her phone at arm's length, so her not being at the airport to welcome him with a shower of kisses did not worried him.

 

He took the first cab he saw, itching to get home, to wrap Arya in his arms and fuck her in every single room of their small home.

 

As the car moved through the city, along nearly empty streets and dark sidewalks, he couldn't help but think of her. His thoughts were always filled with her presence. She was the light in his most somber hours, the only comfort when he had to spend day and night on open fields, not being able to sleep or move out of fear, and her promises and reassurances were what kept him sane and hopeful in the bloody and nonsensical dance of the battlefield.

 

He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, wanting to forget, _wishing_ to forget. He shook his head and tried to shift his focus back on Arya.

 

He couldn't wait to to see her long face again, her pretty smile, those haunting grey eyes of hers. He chuckled as he thought how much he missed her calling him _stupid bull_ , her familiar scowl, the heartwarming way in which she always nuzzled her nose along his jaw, even her annoying habit of pinching his butt for "good luck."

 

By the time he got to see a glimpse of their home, the sky had turned into a lighter shade of blue, with orange flecks tinting the horizon.

 

The taxi handn't even stopped moving when he was already jumping out of it. He paid the driver and told him to keep the change, not bothering to take a look at the bill. Judging by the big smile plastered on the guy's face, Gendry bet he had just given him a pretty large tip he would come to regret later. Still, he couldn't bring himself to care right at this moment.

 

He ran all the way to the front door, struggling to get his keys out of his pocket and into the keyhole.

 

"Arya, I'm home!" He called out excitedly.

 

When he got no response, no sight of his girlfriend barreling into him and jumping into his arms, he became worried for the first time.

 

"Arya?" He called again, softly this time.

 

He walked slowly down the short corridor that led to their bedroom, expecting her to jump out of the room and scare the shit ouf of him as she usually did.

 

But no, that wouldn't be possible, not since they had Nymeria with them. The dog was too fond of Gendry and she was always the first to welcome him whenever he arrived home.

 

He got a weird feeling at the pit of his stomach.

 

No battle, no sight of death and devastation had ever made him feel this way.

 

He opened the door of their bedroom slowly, scared and excited at the same time.

 

His feelings were quickly put at ease when he found Arya soundly asleep, with Nymeria cuddled by her side. He smiled. Arya had one arm wrapped around Nymeria and the other holding a thick blanket close to her chest.

 

He frowned, that was actually odd. Arya barely felt cold during winter, so seeing her covered almost from head to toe by a blanket when they were so close to spring was a very uncommon sight. He shrugged and climbed on the bed, moving slowly towards her side. Nymeria woke up at the movement and growled for a second before realizing who he was.

 

"Shh . . ." Gendry placed his index finger in front of his lips, asking the dog for silence.

 

It was stupid, but Nymeria was no ordinary dog. In fact, she was smarter than half of his army mates.

 

The dog whined softly but grew content once he gave her ears a good scratch.

 

"Arya, I'm home," he whispered.

 

She opened her eyes slowly, blinking the sleep away.

 

"Am I dreaming?" She asked incredously, still half asleep.

 

"No, m'lady," he smiled.

 

"Stupid."

 

And just like that, his Arya was back. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and pulled him down, bringing him closer to her to give him a hungry kiss.

 

They spent the next few minutes holding onto each other, whispering sweet words into each other's ear, until Arya pushed him away from her, lifting herself up to rest her back against the headboard.

 

She bit her lip and refused to meet his eyes for a moment and Gendry knew something was wrong.

 

The uneasy feeling returned at the bottom of his stomach.

 

"Arya?"

 

"I have something to tell you," she said in all seriousness, giving him her best Stark look. She bit her lip one more time before she lifted the blanket off her body. "I'm pregnant."

 

All common sense, skill and what little intelligence he had left his body and he could only stare at her round belly in silence.

 

There was a baby growing inside her right at this moment.

 

A baby.

 

"Gendry?"

 

He could hear the fear and uncertainty in her voice, but he could not bring himself to say something, his brain refused to cooperate with his lips and tongue.

 

"I know we agreed to wait, I know he hadn't really talked about this that much, but- Gendry? Where are you going?"

 

And, against his better judgement, he ran out of the room, leaving a heart broken Arya behind.

 

He really was stupid.

 

 

*

 

 

He came back less than twenty minutes later and he wasn't sure if he wasnted to kick himself in the ass or let Arya do the honors.

 

When he found her sitting on the couch, rubbing her belly, with Nymeria sleeping by her feet and with her nose and eyes all red, he knew he had the answer.

 

"Shit, I'm sorry!" He apologized.

 

She shook her head, smiling sadly at him.

 

"You have nothing to be sorry about. I know we didn't plan for this to happen, I can't blame you if you don't want-"

 

He pressed a kiss to her lips and cut her words short.

 

"Shut up, Arry."

 

"But-"

 

"Shh . . ." He shushed her. "I need to ask you something."

 

"What?"

 

"Would you marry me, Arya Stark?" He asked her as he pulled a simple ring out of his pocket at the same time.

 

She bit her lip again, tears rolling down her cheeks.

 

"Stupid hormones," she muttered.

 

"What did you say?"

 

"Nothing," she shook her head. "Are you sure about this?"

 

"Are you kidding me? I have never been more sure of anything in my whole life!"

 

She smiled. "Then you really are stupid."

 

"Is that a yes?"

 

"Yes, I will marry you . . . stupid!" She smiled.

 

Gendry laughed like an idiot and pulled her into his chest and wasted no time to kiss her lips, her cheeks, her neck, every bit of her. He slipped the ring on her thin finger and waited for her to comment on it.

 

"Did you get it from one of those candy machines?"

 

"Yeah," he smiled stupidly, "had to try five times before I got it."

 

"My stupid bull," she told him, giving him a quick peck on the lips, "wasting all his pennies on me."

 

He chuckled. "I'm sorry for the ring, Sharna's was the only place open at this hour. I'll get you a pretty one soon enough, I promise."

 

She shrugged. "I like this one," she said, looking at the cheap metal ring with adoration, "it matches my eyes," she joked.

 

"It does, m'lady," he smiled at her.

 

They looked at each other's eyes for a moment before he lowered his gaze and placed his hands on her belly for the first time.

 

"Hello baby," he whispered close to her stomach, "it's me, papa."

 

He pressed a kiss to her belly and did not let her go.

 

_It feels good to be home._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was a request by Direwolf86, I hope you enjoyed it!


	37. Babysitting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another request by Direwolf86.
> 
> Enjoy.

 

 

"What's going on?" Gendry asked as he opened the entrance door, only to find his father and father in law engaged in a very loud discussion.

 

"Your yelling can be heard all the way to Dorne!" Arya exclaimed, standing by her husband's side, hoping to get their attention.

 

She got no answer.

 

"Mommy! Daddy!" The little girl ran to meet her parents, dressed as a knight and holding a plastic sword on her hand, "look what grandpa Bertie got me!" She said happily.

 

"Oh, it's great!" Arya said, kissing her daughter's forehead.

 

"Roberta, where's your brother?" Gendry asked her, worried by his son's absence.

 

"I don't know," she shrugged, "I haven't seen him."

 

"You haven't seen him?" Gendry's eyes went wide. "I told you we should have hired a proper nanny," he whispered on Arya's ear.

 

"Calm down," she said, pressing a kiss on his cheek, "I'm sure he's fine."

 

They walked to the living room, where the shouting match continued, and did some yelling of their own.

 

"Why are you screaming? What's the problem?" Gendry asked out loud.

 

"Gendry, thank the gods you are here," Robert Baratheon said, moving to stand by his son's side. "Could you please tell my friend Ned here that I am the best grandfather of the two."

 

"Oh, not this again!" Gendry exhaled as Arya rolled her eyes.

 

"We told you already, you are both great," Arya said with finality, sounding completely done with the topic. "Now, could you please tell me where's Eddie?"

 

"I'm here!"

 

Their son came out of the kitchen, cheeks and fingers stained with chocolate frosting, looking completely pleased with himself.

 

"Please tell me you didn't eat all the cake," Arya told him, trying to wipe the frosting from her son's chubby face. "You were supposed to take care of them!" Arya reprimanded both her father and father in law.

 

"I gave them one slice each, like you told us," Ned Stark assured his daughter.

 

"And grandpa Bertie gave us another slice," Roberta said, giggling.

 

"Dad!" Gendry shook his head, looking at his father with annoyance.

 

"What? They asked me for it, how could I say no?"

 

"See? That's why I'm the best grandfather," Ned told his old friend, "I follow the rules."

 

"Rules were made to be broken," Robert huffed. "Roberta, my sweet, come here," he called his granddaughter.

 

The little girl sat on her grandfather's lap. "Yes, grandpa Bertie?"

 

She and her brother were the only ones allowed to call him like that.

 

"Tell me, who is the best, your grandfather Ned or I?"

 

"Robert, don't drag my daughter into this, I beg you," Arya told him.

 

Robert shused her. "Tell me, sweetie."

 

"Mmm . . ." The little girl placed the tip of her index finger on her lips and got pensive look on her face. "Well," she said after awhile, "grandpa Ned got me my knight costume," she explained, putting a smile on Ned Stark's face, "but you got me the sword, so . . ."

 

"So?"

 

Eddie took the spot by his maternal grandfather's side and cuddled into him. Arya smiled, she could easily read the worried expression on her little boy's face, he was afraid of what his sister might say.

 

"So it's easy," Roberta said, "you are both the best and I don't have to choose!" She exclaimed with a toothy smile.

 

"You are too smart, you know?" Robert told his granddaughter.

 

"Of course she is, she's a Stark!" Ned said.

 

"And a Baratheon!" Robert added. "She got both her smarts and looks from me."

 

"You have to be kidding me!" Ned frowned.

 

Gendry ran his fingers over his temples, moving away slowly, too tired to put an end to the men's discussion.

 

"Now they are going to fight over who's more handsome," Arya chuckled.

 

"Gods, it's gonna take forever."

 

Arya snorted. "Need a drink?"

 

"Two or three, I think."

 

She laughed and surrounded his waist with her arms. "Did you ever imagine we would be the mature adults of the bunch?"

 

"Never in a million years."

 

Arya smiled softly as she looked at her children, who were playing happily with their grandparents. "You know, I think we got the best nannies we could ever wish for."

 

Gendry sighed and pressed a kiss on her forehead. "Yeah, and we got them for free."

 

They laughed and walked to the kitchen, wondering if some cake leftovers had survived the night.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is part of the "Chest Pains" universe.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	38. A promising start

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just taking a little break from all the family fluff.

 

_"Miss Stark, you can't go inside, the boss is very busy right now!"_

 

_"I don't give a fuck, he will listen to me now!"_

 

_"But Miss-"_

 

 

*****

 

 

Gendry sighed in relief as he waited for the inevitable.

 

The door of his office was opened with more force than it was necessary and there she stood. Arya Stark. The youngest and most successful private detective in town and the biggest pain in his ass.

 

"I told you to stay out of this, Waters," she said to him, anger in her voice.

 

"I'm sorry, boss, I tried to stop her, but she-"

 

Gendry raised one of his hands, asking for silence. "Don't worry, Pie," he told him, "please leave me alone with Miss Stark."

 

"Sure," the chubby assistant gave the young woman a sideways look. "I'll be close in case you need anything."

 

"Thanks."

 

And with that, Pie left the office in a hurry.

 

"Pie? What kind of name is Pie?" Arya questioned with honest curiosity.

 

"Go ask him if you are so interested."

 

She rolled her eyes and closed the door behind her with a loud bang.

 

"How many times do I have to tell you not to bang the door so hard!" Gendry scowled at her, standing up and walking towards her.

 

She smirked, looking up at him as he stood right in front of her. "Hm, I don't remember you having an issue as you banged me hard against it the last time I was here."

 

Arya Stark was harder to deal with than any criminal and she was the main reason why he couldn't sleep at night.

 

"You think you are funny?"

 

She shrugged. "I don't know," she said, sliding her hands over his chest and shoulders until she locked them behind his neck, "do you think I am?"

 

"You are a huge pain in my ass, you know?" He told her, closing the distance between their lips, his hands resting lazily on her hips.

 

"I know," she whispered, a hair's breadth from his mouth, but just before he could press his lips on hers, she pulled on his hair, stopping his advances. "I told you to stay away from this case. Ramsay is mine and I will be the one to put him behind bars."

 

Gendry scowled and digged his fingers on her skin. "I can't stay out of it, Arya, you know that. I'm the chief of the police department and getting Ramsay behind bars is my job as much as you believe it's yours."

 

She huffed and pulled harder on his thick, black hair. "Believe? It is _my_ job, do you think I'm playing?"

 

"No, but I don't think you realize how much you are risking yourself by going after him on your own. Arya, this guy is a psychopath."

 

"And? I have dealt with horrible people before," she said, letting go of his hair.

 

"He's a different kind of horrible," he told her. " And I won't forgive myself if he lays a finger on you."

 

"Don't be stupid, Bull. Nothing will happen to me," she assured him with a small smile.

 

He frowned. "You are way too confident."

 

"It's okay," she shrugged, "I know for a fact that someone has been keeping an eye on me, making sure I'm all right." She shook her head, "look at you, wasting the resources of the local police department on me," she grinned, pleased to see the blush on his cheeks.

 

"I was worried," he said softly, "I didn't see you or heard from you in weeks."

 

"I'm sorry," she apologized, rubbing softly the back of his head. "I promise I won't do it again."

 

Gendry narrowed his eyes at her. "You always say that, but never keep your word."

 

Arya laughed. "Are you pouting?"

 

"No."

 

She stood on the tips of her toes and pressed her body tight against his. "I'll make it up to you," she grinned and her hands traveled down his body until they reached the zip of his pants.

 

Before she could lower his pants and underwear together, Gendry took a hold of her hands.

 

"What? You don't want to?" She asked him, sounding annoyed.

 

"You don't think I do?"

 

"Then what are we waiting for?"

 

She squeaked as Gendry took her in his arms and carried her to his desk. He laid her down and wasted no time to undress her as quickly as his eager hands could.

 

They tasted and felt each other with hungry kisses and desperate touches. They were both needy and sexually frustrated after weeks of not being together and it showed.

 

Arya moaned as Gendry sucked on the skin of her neck and rubbed his fingers over her breasts, softly pinching each of her nipples. She tried her best to get rid of his pants with the help of her feet but Gendry's touches were very distracting, making the task more difficult, almost impossible.

 

She ran his hands through his hair and then held his face between them.

 

"What?" He asked her, looking upset by the interruption.

 

"Get rid of your fucking pants, now!"

 

"Yes, Boss," he said.

 

"Stupid."

 

He stood up and pulled his pants and underwear off his body in one movement. Arya sat up on the edge of the desk and bit her lip.

 

"Like what you see?"

 

"Yes, come here."

 

Her impatience made him laugh, but he did as he was told. Arya pulled him closer to her, placing her legs around him, and pressed a kiss on his naked chest as her hands found his ass. She caressed and pinched his ass cheeks like she always did and his mouth found hers again.

 

While her hands worked on his ass, his remained glued to her breasts. He kept massaging and squeezing them hard enough for it to be pleasurable until he felt Arya's hands on his cock.

 

"Fuck."

 

He was already half hard, so Arya didn't have to work much to get him ready.

 

She rested her back on the desk once again and allowed him do the work this time, sighing in pleasure as his fingers brushed her entrance. His hands were always so warm unlike hers and his well practiced fingers felt like heaven as they softly spread her lips apart and rubbed her wetness along her slit.

 

Gendry moved to kiss her on the lips, his long fingers working on her steadily, with the proper rhythm and just the right amount of pressure to make her moan out loud.

 

He smiled against her lips. "Shh, try not to be so loud this time."

 

"Easier said than done," she muttered between shivers and moans.

 

Gendry pressed a trail of kisses down her throat, sucked on her nipples the way she liked it, bit the underside of her breasts, traced a circle with his tongue around her belly button and finally, after a lot of teasing, his mouth met her cunt.

 

Instinctively, her legs tried to shut together, hoping to feel more of that pleasurable sensation. Gendry caressed her thighs and pressed his tongue deeper into her, trying to soothe her needs. She placed her hands on his head, messing his hair in the process, and pushed his face deeper into her cunt.

 

"That's it," she said, gasping for air even though she wasn't the one having difficulty to breathe, "that's enough, no more teasing, I want you, Gendry," she begged, "I need you now."

 

"Yes, Boss," he smiled.

 

"I will kick you so hard after we are done," she threatened him.

 

"Whatever you say, Boss."

 

"I mean-"

 

The words escaped her as soon as she felt his cock rubbing against her entrance. He teased her a little more, parting her lips with his tip to get her ready and making sure his hard cock was well covered with her wetness.

 

Gendry leaned over her and kissed her hard to capture her loud moan as he entered her.

 

He went slow first, helping her body adjust to his thickness and then he increased his pace little by little, thrusting deeper and harder into her as she begged for more.

 

"Fuck, Gendry," she tried her best to keep her voice low, "it feels so good!"

 

" _You_ feel so good," he groaned.

 

Neither lasted long. Arya came first, with a shiver and a prayer of filthy words. Gendry followed her shortly after, his body tensed as he reached his peak and came hard inside her. He lay on top of her for a while, buried deep inside of her, and she lazily ran her thin fingers through his hair.

 

They were both sweaty and content and oblivious to the world that waited for them outside his office.

 

"How do you feel?"

 

"Sticky," she chuckled.

 

"I'm sorry," he apologized, thinking about the mess he had made between her legs.

 

"Don't be, I like it when you come inside."

 

He kissed her cheek and rubbed his nose along her jaw. "Are you staying?" He hoped she would say yes.

 

"I'm not sure."

 

He was too in love with her to say more, the last thing he wanted was to scare her off.

 

"I miss you."

 

She said nothing, just wrapped her arms tightly around him. That was enough for him, for now.

 

They quickly put their clothes back on and said their goodbyes. He made her promise she would stay in contact.

 

Arya gave him one last smile and she was gone as fast as she had appeared.

 

Gendry sighed. It seemed like Arya Stark was the only person he would never be able to catch.

 

 

*****

 

 

Gendry heaved a deep sigh as he opened the door of his apartment. His last hours at the office had been rough and he wanted nothing more than sleep until the next month.

 

He got rid of his coat, dropped it over the couch along with his briefcase, and went to the kitchen to get a glass of water. He wanted some beer, but he knew better than to drink alcohol after she had left him again.

 

_Arya._

 

"What took you so long?"

 

He turned around quickly and found her standing by the door of his bedroom, hair all wet and wearing nothing but one of his old academy t-shirts she seemed to love so much and a pair of fluffy socks.

 

"Arya?" He couldn't believe his eyes.

 

"Who else could I be?" She grinned.

 

Gendry laughed and ran towards her and wasted no time to wrap her in his arms. "Are you staying? For good?"

 

"Don't push me, Waters."

 

"Sorry."

 

She smiled tenderly at him before turning her head to rest her cheek on his warm chest. "I miss you too," she confessed.

 

Gendry knew they had a long way ahead of them, but this was a promising start, even if he knew Arya would come and go a few more times. He was stubborn though, and he would keep chasing her for as long as he needed to.

 

After all, he wasn't called the Bull for doing things half-heartedly.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I tried. 
> 
> ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯


	39. The Ghost of High Heart Part 2

 

 

By the time Arya found shelter from the rain, she was already soaking wet. She wasn't upset about it though, on the contrary, being completely soaked from head to toe would disguise her tears and justify her red nose to her family.

 

She stood still, under the overheard canopy of a shop, and waited for the worst of the rain to pass. She was so lost in her thoughts that she barely heard her name being called from inside a car.

 

"Arya!"

 

She tried to focus her eyes, hoping to see who was calling her, but the tears and the heavy rain were making things difficult for her.

 

When she heard the sound of a door closing, she worried that it was one of her family's friends, or worse, one of her stupid classmates, but once she noticed the black hair, the wide shoulders and the tall figure, she knew exactly who it was.

 

 _Great,_ she thought with embarrassment.

 

It was Gendry, Jon's best friend and one of the reasons she would never pay to have her fortune told again. While the two had become a bit more familiar with each other during the last couple of years, since Jon had left for the Wall she had barely caught a glimpse of Gendry here and there.

 

"Enjoying the rain? he asked her with a silly smile as he stood very close to her, though she could hear some concern on his voice. "C'mon, there's not enough room for both of us here," he said, looking up to the small canopy, "I'll take you home."

 

Arya shook her head. "I don't want to go home," she said. The soft, almost pitiful sound of her voice made her wish she could kick her own ass.

 

"I see," he said with a sigh. He regarded her for a moment and took his jacket off, placing it over her shaky shoulders.

 

She stared at him with wide, open eyes, surprised by the gesture. "I don't- I'm fine," she said, a light blush on her cheeks.

 

"You'll catch a cold," he told her and gave her a look that meant he wasn't going to accept his jacket back. "Let's get in the car and we will decide where to go from there."

 

She accepted reluctantly and allowed him to place his hand on her back as he led her to his car.

 

"Are you hungry?" He asked her as they were putting on the seatbelts.

 

"Not really, but I could drink something."

 

He smiled at her and nodded. "I know exactly where to go."

 

*

 

"I want the jumbo burger with extra fries and a large chocolate milkshake," Arya gave the waiter a small smile as she finished her order.

 

"Okay," she said, "and for you, young man?" the middle aged woman asked Gendry.

 

"Same thing, but I'll have a soda instead."

 

"Very well, I'll be back in a moment," the waiter told them and walked away to place their orders.

 

"Not hungry, huh?"

 

"Shut up," Arya scowled playfully at him, munching on some chips.

 

"There, that's better."

 

"What's better?"

 

"You. Your angry face is better than your crying face," he told her, "looks prettier too," he added with a stupid grin.

 

Arya almost panicked and refused to meet his eyes. "I wasn't crying," she denied, not wanting to acknowledge what she supposed was an honest compliment, "I was just cold."

 

"Really? I thought the Starks were born to handle the cold, that's what Jon told me anyway," he chuckled, "I suppose that's why he decided to leave for the Wall."

 

 _The boy is not a Stark!_ her mother's harsh words resonated in her mind.

 

The pained look on her face must have been very obvious, because Gendry apologized immediately after.

 

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to say that, I know his absence has been very hard on you."

 

"And how can you tell?"

 

"Well, it's just obvious," he gave her a sympathetic smile. "The last time I got a call from Jon we talked about you, he told me how worried and sorry he was for having to leave you."

 

Arya couldn't believe her ears. "You talk about me?"

 

He snorted. "Are you kidding me? We always talk about you! Jon can never shut up about his _little sister_ , it's a bit annoying if you ask me," he joked.

 

She blushed again as she tried to distract herself by making an airplane out of a napkin.

 

"Arya?"

 

She shyly met his eyes. "Yes?"

 

"Why were you crying?"

 

"No reason," she shrugged, "just things."

 

"Just things?"

 

"Yeah."

 

He narrowed his eyes at her. "Do I have to kick some boy's ass?"

 

"What? No!"

 

"Are you sure? I haven't seen that blond kid around you lately, what did he do?"

 

Arya frowned. "One, Edric didn't do anything and he hasn't been around because he went to visit his family in Dorne, and two," her expression turned suspicious, "how do you know we haven't been hanging out lately?"

 

"What?"

 

"You heard me, Baratheon," she told him, calling him in the same way her brother usually did, "how do you know?"

 

"Uh, you know, I . . ." he babbled, "well, I just haven't seen the two of you together at school lately."

 

She wasn't impressed by his lousy explanation. "That's because we are on vacation."

 

"I meant before."

 

She couldn't believe what she was about to ask him. "Have you been keeping an eye on me? Did Jon ask you to?"

 

"What? Absolutely not! Why would I do that?" He said defensively. A little _too_ defensively.

 

Arya did not believe him for a second, but decided not to push further. She was beginning to suspect their earlier encounter had not been a coincidence.

 

"Here you go, dears," the waiter placed the food on the table. "Two jumbo burgers, a large chocholate milkshake and a soda," she repeated their order, "enjoy!"

 

They thanked her and started to eat, both content to avoid any sort of talk for the meantime.

 

*

 

The ride home was pretty quiet, they didn't have a lot in common to talk about except for Jon, but that was clearly a topic neither wanted to touch. However, Arya could feel his eyes on her every now and then. He wasn't very subtle.

 

"What?" She asked him, keeping her eyes on the side of the road.

 

"What what?"

 

"You keep looking at me, is something wrong with my face? Is it too _long_ for you?" She scowled at him, some repressed and misplaced anger in her voice.

 

Gendry stared at her for a moment, his expression was hard, but his eyes were tender. She didn't like that look. It made her feel funny.

 

He focused his eyes on the road again and spoke. "What happened to your hair?"

 

She self-consciously ran a hand through her choppy mat of hair. She knew she hadn't done a good job when she decided to cut it off, the mirror and her mother did not lie, and she supposed the bad haircut was more obvious now that her hair was almost dry.

 

She shrugged, pretending not to care. "Wanted to look different."

 

"I think it looks good on you," he smiled.

 

He was kind enough to lie at least. She would give him that.

 

Before Gendry could park his car, Arya was already jumping out of it.

 

"Arya, wait," he asked her, holding her wrist gently.

 

She could have easily pull her hand out of his grip, but she didn't for some stupid reason.

 

"What?"

 

He heaved a deep sigh and wouldn't meet her eyes. "Look, I know all you see in me is your older brother's best friend, but if you need anything, someone to talk to or just a ride home, just call me, okay?"

 

"I can't," she replied.

 

He turned to look at her. "Why not?"

 

"I don't have your number," she grinned.

 

He grinned right back at her. " _Smart ass,_ " he muttered.

 

"What did you say?" She scowled playfully at him.

 

"Nothing, you need to get your ears checked," he joked. "Here," he handed her a small piece of paper with his number scribbled on it, "call me whenever you need to."

 

Arya placed the piece of paper inside her pocket and nodded.

 

"May I give you a little advice?" He asked.

 

"Sure, why not?"

 

"Don't shave your head, Jon will be heartbroken if he can't muss up your hair again."

 

Arya felt a knot forming on her throat and tears pooling behind her eyes, but surprisingly, she didn't feel sad. She wanted to hug Gendry to thank him for whatever magic he had worked on her, but she stopped herself before she could act on her feelings.

 

She got out of the car and walked towards the sidewalk.

 

"Good bye. And thank you, for everything."

 

"No problem." He waved at her and started the car.

 

"Wait!" Arya said out loud.

 

"What?"

 

"Your jacket," she said and began to take it off.

 

"Keep it. It looks good on you _Stark_ ," he assured her.

 

"You do realize it's like four sizes too big on me, _Baratheon_?"

 

He shrugged. "I think the color suits you," he winked at her and drove away before she could say anything else.

 

Arya looked at the jacket and scrunched up her nose at the bright, egg yolk tone of the fabric. This was definitely not her color.

 

 _He will cover you in yellow . . ._ The words hit her memory all of a sudden, but she didn't allow herself to be stupid this time. She shook her head and smiled, and looked down the road where Gendry's car was about to disappear around the corner.

 

Coincidence or not, Arya was starting to believe that life, perhaps, truly worked in mysterious ways.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not happy with how this sequel turned out, I wanted the story to be more exciting, but it didn't work out. I hope you enjoyed it a little at least.


	40. Pack

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For bookskitten, who kept me motivated to finish this.
> 
>  
> 
> Warning: a whole lot of nothing.

 

 

"What are you doing?" Gendry asked Arya gruffily as they were settling down on a patch of grassy, mostly dry ground.

 

She paid no attention to him and moved Weasel between them. "She's cold," was all she offered as explanation.

 

"So? She can cuddle with Hot Pie."

 

She frowned. " _You_ can cuddle with Hot Pie."

 

"I sleep by your side, always," he told her, his words sounding very much like a reminder.

 

"And? I never asked you to, it's not a rule," she retorted.

 

"Who will keep you warm, m'lady?" Gendry scolwed at her, but his voice sounded a little pained.

 

"Who says I'm cold, stupid?"

 

"You might not say it," he told her, sounding annoyed this time, "but your body does every night you sleep pressed to my back, with your hands tucked under your chin and with your feet between my legs.

 

"I'm a Stark, a Northerner, this weather is nothing to me," she huffed, refusing to admit the truth.

 

"Fine, I don't care, you can freeze to death for all I care," he turned on his side, placed his hands under his armpits and went to sleep, or tried to at least.

 

"Stupid."

 

The little girl looked at Arya with apprehension, but she quickly reassured her.

 

"It's fine, Weasel," Arya gave her a small smile she wasn't even sure the little girl could see in the darkness, "sleep now, I'll take care of you," she mussed up her dirty, coarse hair, so much like hers.

 

_I want to see Jon again._

 

Weasel wrapped her little hand around Arya's and pressed herself against her, out of fear or cold, Arya wasn't sure. It was probably both.

 

She took a quick glance around her, like she always did before going to sleep. Hot Pie was snoring loudly, which was not only annoying but also dangerous. Lommy had found himself a place near a fallen tree and Gendry seemed to be asleep already. She looked down at Weasel, who had finally stopped shivering, and saw her eyes fluttering closed. Arya sighed.

 

Her pack was safe, for now.

 

She finally allowed herself to rest and she hoped that tomorrow they would find something better than bugs to eat. She didn't want to see Weasel eating mud again.

 

 

 

After a night filled with nightmares, Arya woke up to a feeling of warmth and the sensation of having something heavy lying over her. She opened her eyes slowly, afraid for a moment that one of her friends had been killed during the night and that the body had been thrown on top of her. _Am I dead too?_ She wondered. Thankfully, reality was a lot more kind than her imagination, as well as unexpected.

 

Her usual morning scowl was replaced by a gesture of surprise once she noticed Gendry's heavy arm wrapped around her. She would have pushed his arm off of her and kicked him away, but she couldn't, wouldn't. He looked so tired and peaceful, and little Weasel had made herself comfortable against his chest. She couldn't be selfish and stupid to ruin what little peace and happiness they had been able to find in their dreams.

 

She closed her eyes, willing her body to rest again, and allowed herself to dream about pleasant things for once.

 

Hunger and death could wait a little longer for them.

 

 

*****

 

 

The she-wolf felt her first victim of the night before she could even see it. Despite the distance, she could smell its fear, taste its salty tears in the air, hear its heavy breathing and sloppy steps.

 

But there was something else, a faint, familiar scent she remembered from someone else, from another time.

 

Whatever it was, it did not matter. The she-wolf licked her lips in anticipation. _Meat was meat and men were prey._ Lion, horse or man, it made no difference to her whose flesh it was. They all tasted the same in the end.

 

Hidden in the shadows, she waited patiently for her prey to appear. Unsuspecting victims were always easier to hunt and she was in no rush to chase this one down.

 

Her ears perked up and her nostrils flared as she caught sight of her next kill. The feast would be meager tonight, but it was better than running on an empty stomach.

 

Once her victim got close enough, she stepped out of the shadows and let out a deep, soft growl, making her presence known.

 

The little girl gasped out loud and froze in place as soon as she caught sight of her. The she-wolf could see her small body trembling, her tears running down her cheeks, she could even hear her fast beating heart.

 

She was ready to attack when she heard her sisters and brothers approaching. Some of her smaller, younger pack mates looked eager to eat and ran past her, to feast on a prey that didn't belong to them. The she-wolf moved fast behind them and quickly caught up to them, biting into their fur, letting them know they had to wait.

 

The wind blew and the familiar scent from before hit her nose once more. She knew that smell. She knew who it belonged to.

 

_Arya._

 

The she-wolf growled and bared her teeth at her pack, warning them to remain where they were. She turned around, moving slowly towards the little girl, who kept walking backwards until her back hit a tree. The woodsy, steely scent of her mistress grew stronger as she got closer to the child, she couldn't understand why she smelled so much like her Arya.

 

The little girl closed her eyes shut and covered her face with her small, dirty hands.

 

She was no wolf. She was no Arya.

 

Still, she had her girl's scent on her, that had to mean something.

 

_Nymeria._

 

Arya's voice resounded in her mind. She was calling her.

 

She knew what she had to do.

 

The she-wolf nuzzled the little girl's hands apart. What was supposed to be her first kill of the night was now hers to protect. The girl refused to open her eyes, so the she-wolf started to lick her mud stained cheek gently, letting her now she was not going to hurt her.

 

After a lot of coaxing, the little girl finally opened them and blinked rapidly, they were red and swollen. The she-wolf sat close to her, licked her face clean and when she was done, she howled at the moon, and her pack followed her lead.

 

While the wolves sang, the girl sat on the cold ground and wrapped her skinny arms around her tired legs. The she-wolf observed her carefully. She was lost, she looked hungry and scared, and her eyes were incredibly sad. She had the same expression her Arya had had in her pretty, solemn face the last time she had seen her.

 

She had failed to stay by Arya's side and she knew this little girl couldn't remain with her as part of her pack, but even so, she was decided to keep her safe and take her some place where she would be protected. She moved to sit by her side and nuzzled the girl's cheek gently, letting out a soft whine. The girl's stiff body started to relax as she continued to nudge her cold nose against her even colder skin. After some time, her soft touches finally won the girl's trust and slowly, but suredly, she started to wrap her arm around her, holding onto her thick fur.

 

She was a pup still, but the she-wolf thought the girl could become a worthy member of her pack, _of Arya's pack_ , one day. After all, she wouldn't have survived among men and beasts if she wasn't strong.

 

As the little girl's eyes started to close, the she-wolf settled down, curving herself around the child. The girl wasted no time to cuddle her small, shivering body against her, welcoming the thickness and warmth of her fur, rubbing her sleepy face on it. A short time later, the girl heaved a deep, tired sigh and fell asleep, clutching some of the she-wolf's fur in her small hand.

 

The she-wolf nuzzled the girl once more and licked clean her front paws, letting her head rest on them eventually. She felt content even if she would sleep on an empty stomach.

 

Tomorrow, she would take the girl to a safe place, and later she and her pack would continue their never ending hunt.

 

 

 

*****

 

 

 

Three months had passed since Arya's return to Westeros and her reunion with Nymeria; two months since she had given Lady Stoneheart the gift of mercy and the same amount of time since she had granted her mother the opportunity to be finally at peace; one month since the Brotherhood had decided to join her cause and chose her as their new leader.

 

 _But what cause?_ She had wondered more than once. She knew she had to go North, back to her home, and she was sure there was going to be a fight, but apart from that she couldn't tell. Even before her return, her brother Bran had been calling her almost every night in her dreams, he wanted her back in Winterfell as soon as she touched Westerosi land, but she had not expected to meet her mother again. _Not my mother, Lady Stoneheart,_ she reminded herself. Nor had she expected the Brotherhood's support, their loyalty, much less their wish to make her their leader and follow her north. Her journey would take longer, she knew, but she could not leave them behind.

 

 _When the snows fall and the white winds blow, the lone wolf dies, but the pack survives,_ her father had told her a long time ago, when she was still an innocent Summer child. She had believed her father to be wrong once, but not anymore, not after everything she had seen and gone through.

 

If the rumors were true, she would need a pack more than ever before, brothers and sisters that would fight by her side, hurt by her side, survive by her side. She had found one in Nymeria and her pack of wolves, but the Gods had been kind enough to give her another one, one formed by men and women who had chosen to follow her, to be part of her pack.

 

Lady Arya, some of them called her, but for most, she was simply the She-wolf, though the younger members of the Brotherhood often called her Lady Wolf.

 

She didn't know what she could offer them in return of their loyalty and companionship. The North had not much left to give but cold, hunger and death, she had said that to them many times with the hope they would listen and change their minds, but they never did.

 

Now they were marching north and refused to look back.

 

Arya felt both grateful and guilty because of it. She was now responsible for each and every one of these men and women. Men and women who had hopes and dreams, friends, families, lovers, all awaiting for their survival and return. _Only death can pay for life._ They had it all wrong. Life was priceless and Arya would make sure they made it safely back home.

 

Some would march all the way to the Wall; others, like Hot Pie, would stay in Winterfell. And Gendry . . . well, he wanted to remain by her side for some reason, she still couldn't figure it out why. _Wherever you go, I'll follow you,_ he had told her the night he had sworn his sword to her, the same night she had punched him in the face for staying with the Brotherhood all those years before.

 

She sighed and rubbed her eyes, exhausted after a long and troublesome day.

 

"Tired?"

 

_Speaking of the Stranger._

 

"A little."

 

Gendry closed the flap of her tent tightly behind him. He had given himself the role of her personal guard, a position he had taken very seriously, and she didn't have the heart to tell him she didn't need his safeguarding at all.

 

"You should rest, most are sleeping already."

 

"Most, but not all," she told him, stretching her back until the bones cracked. "I'm their leader, I should go to sleep last."

 

"A sleepy, tired leader won't do them any good," he retorted. "Go to sleep."

 

"Can't. I have too much in my mind."

 

"Well, since you won't go to sleep and I can't sleep until you are, I'll keep you company."

 

"Don't be stupid, go to your tent, get some rest," she looked at him with a twinkle in her eye and a wicked smile, "or you could go find someone who can tire you until you fall asleep."

 

He had grown used to her constant teasing at this point.

 

"Look who's stupid now," he said, keeping a straight face, "you know well Willow stayed behind,  _m'lady_." He added the last part just to make sure he would get a reaction from her.

 

She did react, but not like he was expecting.

 

"Why did you leave her then?" She asked him, looking both confused and even a little annoyed. "If you love her, why did you leave her behind? why are you here?"

 

"I love her." He assured her and this time she couldn't help but stare right at him. "But not in the way you think I do. She's like a sister to me."

 

 _I'm too bloody lowborn to be kin to m'lady high._ "That's not a joke you should make about a woman you love like a sister."

 

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that," he honestly apologized. He reached out his hand, over the make shift desk, and took hold of her cold, thin fingers. "I'm sorry, Arya."

 

"I don't need your apology."

 

"No, I suppose you don't," he sighed. "But really, I don't love her, not in that way," he gave her fingers a light squeeze and then he let go.

 

She tucked her hand close to her and kept quiet. Since it looked like she wasn't going to talk any time soon, he decided to change the subject.

 

"I have some news for you."

 

"What news?"

 

"I found you a handmaid."

 

She frowned. "Why?"

 

"All highborn ladies need handmaids."

 

"Really? And how do you know this? When did you become so knowledgeable about highborn ladies needs?" she questioned him. "Actually, I don't want to know," she quickly changed her mind, "I don't need a handmaid, I can assure you I have no trouble putting on my clothes or washing my own back."

 

"The girl still hasn't seen her ten nameday and she's an orphan," he told her, "she's all alone and needs the work."

 

"She's a child, she should be playing, not serving people," she replied.

 

"You know well that's not how life works."

 

"I know," she exhaled, standing up. "All right, send her to me early tomorrow."

 

"I will." He smiled and stood up, walking behind her.

 

"Gendry," Arya stopped at the entrance of the tent.

 

"Yes?"

 

"If I ever need help to wash my back, I will call you," she smiled mischievously at him.

 

He blushed and quickly walked out of the tent, not caring one bit about his duty to her.

 

She laughed and rushed to his side to remind him of a sworn shield's proper behavior.

 

 

 

The next morning, Arya walked out of her tent flanked by Nymeria, only to find Gendry waiting for her outside and in the company of a young girl.

 

"She's not yours, isn't she?" She put on a serious face, but there was an evident tone of playfulness behind her words.

 

Gendry decided to ignore her and limited himself to roll his eyes very subtly. "Mornin', m'lady," he said, giving Nymeria's head a soft scratch. The direwolf had grown used to his close and constant presence and he had finally gotten over his fear.

 

"Good morning," she greeted them. She took a quick and descreet look at the girl and smiled, "I suppose she must be my new handmaiden?" She asked.

 

"Yes, she is."

 

"Hello," Arya offered the girl a smile, trying to make her feel comfortable.

 

The girl smiled back but offered no reply. Words and courtesies were not always necessary, she knew that, but she found it odd.

 

"The girl is mute."

 

Arya gulped, feeling sorry for the girl but steeling her features, she knew the last thing the girl needed was her pity. Still, she couldn't help but wonder if the girl had been born mute or if her muteness was the result of something sinister and terrible. She shivered as she remembered the time when No One had lost her tongue.

 

"I see," she finally said, "well, if she's willing to work that is all that matters."

 

The girl nodded quickly, and Arya smiled at her once more.

 

"That's enough for me," she said and then turned to look at Gendry. "What's her name?"

 

"People call her Mylla."

 

"Mylla," she repeated, "that's a pretty name."

 

The girl smiled again.

 

"Well Mylla, the first thing you have to get used to if you are going to be around me is her," Arya said, crouching by Nymeria's side and giving the wolf a little scratch behind her ears. "Are you afraid of wolves?"

 

The girl shook her head and promptly extended her arm so Nymeria could take a sniff.

 

Arya looked at Mylla with surprise, pleased by her fierceness. She had seen big, seasoned men tremble at the mere sight of her direwolf, but this young, scrawny girl hadn't hesitated to pet Nymeria. She liked the girl already.

 

The direwolf sniffed the girl's hand a couple of times and then let out a soft whine. Mylla smiled and Arya noticed how the girl's eyes became glassy. She was completely puzzled by the exchange between her wolf and the young girl, but decided not to think much of it, she could figure it out later, like she always did.

 

 

 

"Hot Pie, have you seen Nymeria?"

 

Her old friend was busy making a feast out of whatever food they had in stock.

 

"Haven't seen her."

 

"I'm surprised she's not here."

 

"She probably knows we have no meat left."

 

Arya rolled her eyes. "How many times do I have to assure you Nymeria didn't eat those rabbits?"

 

"I know what I saw," Hot Pie replied, not bothering to look at her as he continued to chop some turnips.

 

"Fine. I promise you I'll hunt ten rabbits for you."

 

This time, Hot Pie looked at her. "Then you better go and hunt those rabbits, a deer if you can too, I can't keep feeding all these people with broth and hard bread."

 

Arya heaved a deep sigh. "Fine, as soon as I find Nymeria, I'll go into the woods and get those rabbits for you."

 

"Good, now go."

 

Arya chuckled, appreciating Hot Pie's lack of courtesies and complete disregard for her status.

 

"She's probably with Gendry!" He exclaimed before she was out of earshot.

 

Arya stopped and turned around for a moment. "Why would se be with him?"

 

Hot Pie looked completely unimpressed, almost done with her. "Because she likes him," he told her, "you two are very much alike."

 

Arya frowned. "What is that supposed to mean?"

 

"The blindest man is the one who refuses to see," he told her, "stop wasting my time!"

 

Arya huffed, offended, and left.

 

 

 

Arya found Nymeria resting by Mylla's side on a little clear in the woods close to their camp.

 

"I've been looking for you."

 

The girl stood up quickly, perhaps worried that Arya would get angry at her for disappearing, but Nymeria didn't even bother to look up.

 

Arya gave Mylla a reassuring smile and the girl rushed to her side. Arya was taken aback when Mylla held her hand tightly and pulled her to where Nymeria was resting. She gestured for her to take a seat and Arya complied.

 

"You two have become fast friends, haven't you?"

 

The girl nodded.

 

"You were never afraid of her."

 

Mylla shook her head.

 

"And Nymeria protects you."

 

Mylla caressed Nymeria's head lovingly before she looked at Arya and gave her a small nod.

 

Arya gave Mylla a knowing look. "You two had met before," she said in all confidence.

 

The girl nodded again.

 

"Who are you?" Arya asked her.

 

The girl placed one of her hands over her chest and pointed to the woods with her other hand. She stood up suddenly and walked close to the tree line, where she pretended to be crying.

 

Arya watched Mylla closely as she kept acting her story. The girl ran in and out of the woods for a little while, hiding behind the trees, pretending to wield a sword, she even acted a scene that suggested someone had cut another person's arm. Arya considered Izembaro would have loved to have Mylla on one of his plays, but then she remembered the sort of things that he did to his young actresses and thought Mylla was better far away from any mummer's troupe.

 

"Were you taken from your family? Did someone hurt your parents?" Arya asked her.

 

Mylla nodded. The girl pursed her lips and looked around her, mortified, as if she was trying to find something that would help her to communicate what she couldn't act.

 

"It's fine, don't worry," Arya assured her, noting her desperation, "you can continue later," she told her. Then Arya got an idea. "Perhaps I could teach you how to read and write?" she suggested. "We have a long way to go and we could use any spare time we have for your lessons," she finished with a smile.

 

Mylla's eyes went wide and ran to give Arya a hug before she pick up a little wooden stick from the wet ground and began drawing some lines and figures. When she was done, she showed Arya what she had done with an anxious yet hopeful expression on her face.

 

She had drawn five people, Arya could tell. Mylla pointed one of the figures and then pointed to herself. She did the same to Arya and the shortest of the figures who had a sword on her hand. The tallest of the figures had a helmet on and, as simple as the drawings were, Arya could distinguish the bull horns on it.

 

"Is this Gendry?" Arya had to ask.

 

Mylla nodded.

 

"And this one is Hot Pie," she continued, pointing at the figure with the round belly.

 

The girl nodded once more.

 

"Lommy?"

 

Mylla gave her one last small nod.

 

It couldn't be.

 

Arya's mind went blank for a moment, refusing to believe. The Riverlands had taken so much from her. Yoren, Lommy, her brother Robb, her mother, her last hopes and remnants of innocence. She could not believe this land would be kind to give her something back, someone she thought had been long gone from this world.

 

She was taken out of her thoughts when she saw that Mylla had taken some mud from the ground and shoved it on her mouth.

 

"Weasel, no!"

 

The girl gasped, Nymeria lifted her head from her paws and Arya's eyes went wide this time.

 

"Weasel?" she asked in a whisper, scared yet hopeful.

 

The girl nodded eagerly, tears falling from her eyes, and wasted no time to wrap her thin arms around Arya.

 

"Don't cry, little Weasel," she told her, hugging her close to her. "I won't let you go this time, I promise."

 

 

 

_Run, Weasel, run as far as you can, run and hide and never come back . . ._

 

Arya woke up from her nightmare fighting for air. It had been so vivid, so real, and she hated that she felt like a scared little child again. She hated those dreams.

 

She sat on her cot and rubbed her eyes, reminding herself that Weasel was fine, sleeping safely in her own tent a few paces away from hers. Arya sighed and decided it was better if she went to check on her, just to be sure she was fine.

 

She drank some water, put on her thick robe and strapped Needle to her waist. She hoped Gendry would make her a new sword fit for her once they arrived at Winterfell.

 

Nymeria followed her out of the tent and into Weasel's and she felt relieved as soon as she saw the girl resting peacefully on her cot. _It was only a stupid nightmare,_ she said to herself. She left the tent quickly and quietly, not wanting to disturb Weasel's sleep or that of the other girls who were sharing the tent with her.

 

Arya was a couple of steps away from her tent when she decided she didn't want to spend the night alone.

 

"Come girl," Arya said in a whisper.

 

Both she-wolves walked quietly through the camp, sure footed and quick despite the darkness. As they moved, Arya hoped Gendry had not been fool enough to give up his private tent. He could be so good and stubborn sometimes. It had taken her days before she could convince him to accept the small privilege that came with being her sworn shield, but it had been weeks before he had accepted she didn't want him guarding her tent during the night.

 

She stopped before the entrance of his tent and looked at her wolf.

 

"You stay here, Nymeria," Arya told her, "you are allowed to eat anyone that dares to come inside," she finished with a smile, pressing a kiss on top of the wolf's head.

 

Arya poked her head inside Gendry's tent to make sure he was alone. She felt stupid for feeling relieved when she confirmed he was not accompanied by one of the many camp followers that were eager to share his bed.

 

She disrobed, placed Needle beside the cot, and took off her boots. The coldness of the ground against her bare feet brought back memories of times long gone. A sad smile appeared on her face as she remembered how worried she used to be that her mother would not want her for getting her feet all hard and dity.

 

The soles of her feet were no longer thick, broken or rough, but they would always show the scars of walking barefoot over the forest floor, little reminders of a long and difficult journey she hoped would end soon.

 

Quietly and carefully, she lifted the corner of the thick blanket and made herself fit by Gendry's side. The cot was narrow and a little too short for his legs, but Arya's thin body didn't need much space. She pulled the blanket over their bodies and rested her head over the flat, scratchy pillow. Arya sighed softly, tucked her hands under her chin and slowly placed her cold feet between his warm ones.

 

"I didn't know sharing my cot with you was part of my duties as your sworn shield, m'lady," he said, his voice raspy for the lack of use.

 

"Does it bother you?"

 

He opened his eyes and looked straight at her. "No," he exhaled defeatedly, "but it should. What are you doing here?"

 

"I had a dream." And that was all she needed to say, the softness of her voice easily betrayed the rest.

 

"Did your dream of _her_ again?"

 

"No, I haven't had one of those dreams in a while," she assured him.

 

"What did you dream then?"

 

"Can we talk about it on the morrow?" She asked him. "I'm tired and I'm sure you are as well, let's just sleep, please."

 

"As you wish, m'lady."

 

Gendry wrapped his strong arm around her and brought her close to him.

 

"What are you doing?" She questioned him, her voice muffled by the closeness of his chest to her lips.

 

"For old time's sake," he said, chuckling softly.

 

Arya bit her lip and allowed herself to enjoy his warmth, his closeness, the feeling of his strong hand on her back. She rubbed her feet between his, trying to warm them up, which made him laugh. She liked the sound of that.

 

"What's so funny?"

 

"Some things never change," he said.

 

"Stupid," she huffed, sounding more like Arry than the hardened she-wolf she had become.

 

"Like I said, some things never really change," he repeated, right before he pressed a kiss to her head.

 

Arya was caught off guard by the gesture. It had been so long since she had received a kiss that didn't make her skin crawl.

 

"Gendry?" she looked up at him, all wide eyes and trembling lips.

 

"Yes?"

 

"I order you to kiss me," she said, but her words sounded more like a plead than a command.

 

"I didn't know kissing you was part of my duties as well, m'lady" he smiled at her.

 

"Are you refusing my order?"

 

"No, not at all," he replied, "I'm not as stupid as you-"

 

Arya did not let him finish, she just went and pressed her mouth to his. Their lips moved shyly and slowly at first, as if they were testing and learning each other, but soon enough the shyness and awkwardness disappeared, leaving an open space for their feelings to flow free.

 

Gendry wasted no time to deepen the kiss, bringing her face closer to his, tasting her lips with no hint of restraint, eager to finally feel what he had dreamed about since he was nothing but a bastard boy on the run and she a highborn girl pretending to be a boy.

 

Arya felt all warm and she could feel her heart beating faster than ever. She had not felt so alive in a very long time. She freed one of her legs and brought it over his hips, pulling him closer to her, leaving no space between their bodies.

 

She gasped as she felt Gendry's tongue touching the inside of her mouth. The feeling brought back memories of another time, of a different man who had taken her very first kiss, of a bitter and slippery tongue she wished she had never tasted.

 

Gendry broke the kiss, aware of the tension in her body.

 

"What's wrong?"

 

"Nothing," she said, as a lonely tear rolled down her cheek.

 

"Did I do something wrong?" He asked her, his expression both worried and pained. He loosened his hold on her, afraid she was starting to regret what she had allowed him to do.

 

"No!" She exclaimed, doing her best to keep her voice low. "Don't let go, hold me."

 

Gendry did as she asked him to, hating how vulnerable she looked and sounded. He brought her close to him, tucking her under his arm, letting her head rest over his chest. He massaged her scalp gently with the tips of his fingers, placing tiny kisses on her forehead now and then, rubbing her arm to give her warmth and to let her know he wasn't going anywhere, not now and not ever.

 

"Sleep," he told her, "I'll take care of you."

 

"You can't protect me in my dreams," she said softly.

 

"I can and I will, m'lady."

 

Arya smiled. "So that means we will sleep together every night for the rest of our lives?"

 

"We will, if you wish."

 

"I do."

 

It almost felt like they had just sworn a new vow to each other.

 

"Try to sleep, m'lady, the journey will be long tomorrow."

 

"I don't mind how long it is as long as I have you."

 

"And Weasel."

 

"And Hot Pie," she added.

 

"And Nymeria."

 

"And Nymeria," she repeated, smiling.

 

"Good night, M'lady."

 

"Good night, Gendry."

 

Arya heaved a deep and tired sigh and cuddled closer to Gendry, hoping sleep would come soon to both of them.

 

They still had a long way to go, more battles to fight and more enemies to defeat, but as long as the pack remained together, Arya knew they would triumph over the worst life had to offer.

 

She pressed a quick kiss on Gendry's chest and smiled as she felt him tighten her hold on her.

 

And no more nightmares disturbed her sleep that night.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope GRRM won't mind that I took some of his book quotes and put them in the story... or, you know, that I'm writing fanfic based on his work, lol.


	41. Mission accomplished

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something is better than nothing, right? 
> 
> :/

 

 

There was nothing interesting or exciting about Monday mornings at high school. Or so Arya thought before she opened her locker and found a small bouquet of flowers waiting for her.

 

_Seven Hells . . ._

 

Her heart began to feat faster almost immediately, but she quickly reined herself in. Whether this was a joke, a mistake or an honest romantic gesture, Arya would not allow herself to be stupid.

 

She held the bouquet without taking it out of the locker and looked at it closely. Whoever had chosen the flowers knew her well enough to know which flowers were her favorites: summer snowflakes, pale blue springstars and moonbeams.

 

She did not like this at all and immediately wondered if Jeyne Poole was behind it. Jeyne wasn't very smart, but she was particularly talented when making Arya's life miserable, not to mention she was her sister's best friend and that meant she had access to her more personal information. Arya considered Sansa for a second, but her sister was too well bred and proper for that.

 

 _But not enough to stop her best friend from bullying me,_ she thought.

 

She listed all the possible suspects in her mind, but she couldn't point her finger at someone especifically. The only reason she didn't suspect of Theon was because he had graduated two years before.

 

"Who gave you those?"

 

Gendry appeared behind her all of a sudden, taking her by surprise. She was so focused on figuring out who could possibly be behind the flowers that she didn't even heard his usually loud and heavy footsteps.

 

"What?"

 

"The flowers. Who are they from? Dayne?" He took the bouquet out of her locker and held it with very little care.

 

Arya snatched the flowers out of his hand, scowling at him. She had not time for his nonsense.

 

"Shut up!"

 

"Did he sent them to you? He asked her again, smirking and arching one of his bushy eyebrows at her. "Is the little lord trying to win your love with those? He said, gesturing at the flowers.

 

Arya wanted to punch him in the face so bad. "And what if he did? Does it bother you?"

 

He snorted. "Absolutely not. I just think it's silly, flowers are useless."

 

"Maybe to you. I like them."

 

"Since when?"

 

"Since forever."

 

"Really? Gendry frowned, loooking like he didn't believe her. "And how is it possible that I didn't know this?"

 

"Because all we ever want to talk about is video games, music and your stupid helmet!" she huffed.

 

"We do not!"

 

"Yes we do!" Arya stuffed the flowers inside her backpack, slammed her locker door shut and walked away, looking upset.

 

Gendry was shocked by her reaction to say the least.

 

"What's wrong with her?" Hot Pie appeared just in time to see Arya walking away hurriedly.

 

"I think she got angry with me," Gendry shrugged.

 

"What did you do?"

 

"Me? Nothing!"

 

Hot Pie did not seem to believe him.

 

"Okay, okay, I might have teased her a little."

 

"About what?"

 

"Someone sent her flowers."

 

"Who?" Hot Pie asked him as he reached to place a couple of notebooks on top of his locker.

 

"The little lordling," Gendry replied, rolling his eyes, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

 

"Edric?"

 

"Who else?" Gendry said, resting his back against the wall of lockers.

 

"Cool."

 

"Cool? Do you think it's cool?" Gendry couldn't believe his ears.

 

Hot Pie nodded while he put some books and folders inside his backpack. "If they start dating," he said calmly, "I hope Arya will be kind enough to introduce me to some of Edric's girl friends. They say Dornish girls are the prettiest."

 

"Dating? Dating?!" Gendry exclaimed with an expression on his face that looked both pained and disgusted, and even a little scared.

 

"Dude, Arya is sixteen and, you know, she's a pretty girl, you don't notice that of course, nor Arya for that matter," Hot Pie chuckled, "but it's logical guys feel attracted to her. And Edric is attractive too I suppose."

 

"Attractive? The guy wears a handkerchief on his pocket!"

 

"Girls like that kind of thing," Hot Pie shrugged.

 

"Not my Arya!"

 

"What did you say?"

 

Gendry blinked a couple of times, surprised by his own reaction. "What?"

 

"Dude, relax. I promise you Arya won't stop hanging out wih us when she starts dating Edric or any other guy."

 

Gendry huffed, smoke almost coming out of his nostrils, looking like an angry bull.

 

"Look, if you don't like Edric, you could set up Arya with one of your friends from the garage. What's his name? Anguy? That guy is always giving her the heart eyes."

 

Gendry's expression went from angry to surprised. "What?"

 

The bell rang and students began rushing up and down the hall.

 

Hot Pie patted Gendry in the back and ran towards his classroom, leaving a very upset Gendry behind.

 

*****

 

"I can't believe you convinced me to do this," Arya hissed.

 

"Well, you want to know why Gendry has been acting all weird lately and doesn't want to hang out with us during the weekends, right?"

 

"Yes, but following him around like a couple of stalkers is not what I had in mind!"

 

"Well, you could go home you know? I can figure it out on my own."

 

"No way! You would probably blow our cover the second I leave you alone."

 

"Oh!" Hot Pie gasped, pulling Arya behind a truck when Gendry stopped all of a sudden.

 

"What? What is he doing? What's going on?" Arya insistently asked Hot Pie since her view was blocked by his large frame.

 

"He's a traitor!"

 

"What? Why?" She asked again, jumping on his back.

 

"Get off me you monkey!"

 

"Tell me what he's doing!" Arya demanded.

 

"He just went inside the Crossroads."

 

"The inn?"

 

"The inn _and_ restaurant. Sharna won't forgive him for this!"

 

"What is he doing there?" She was genuinely curious.

 

"Let's find out," Hot Pie turned to look at Arya and she gave him a nod.

 

They moved behind her hiding spot and walked towards the inn and, very slowly and carefully, looked through the inn's front window.

 

Arya gasped at the sight while Hot Pie's eyebrows almost reach his hairline.

 

Gendry was sitting in one of the booths, chatting with a girl. A girl Arya didn't know. A pretty girl.

 

"Who's that?" She asked.

 

"No idea."

 

"Call him."

 

"What?"

 

"Call Gendry. Ask him where he is."

 

"We know where he is!"

 

"Just. Call. Him," Arya marked each word with a punch.

 

"Seven Hells, stop hitting me!"

 

"Just do it!"

 

"Alright, alright!"

 

Hot Pie dialed Gendry's number and they waited. They watched as Gendry took his phone out of his pocket, looked at it undecidedly and finally took the call after the fith ring. He excused himself and walked away from the booth and the girl.

 

"Hey," Hot Pie said, "where are you?"

 

Arya pressed her ear to Hot Pie's phone and listened to Gendry's talk.

 

_I'm at the garage._

 

"Are you working during the weekends now too?"

 

_Yeah._

 

Arya's heart sank a bit. "Ask him if you can go see him," she muttered to Hot Pie.

 

"Can I go? Wanna hang out for a bit?

 

_Uh, I don't know, I'm kind of busy right now, but we can meet at Sharna's after I'm finished here._

 

"Okay, I'll see you there."

 

_See ya._

 

Hot Pie barely had the chance to finish the call when Arya was already standing up and walking away.

 

"Hey Arya, wait!"

 

"I can believe it!" She exclaimed, with her hands closed into tight fists.

 

"What?" Hot Pie hurried to keep up with her quick steps.

 

"Why is Gendry lying to us?"

 

"I don't know, perhaps he had some serious business with this girl," he offered as explanation.

 

Arya looked at her friend with a disbelieving expression. "C'mon, he's clearly dating her and he doesn't trust us enough to tell us."

 

"How can you be so sure she's dating her?"

 

Arya shrugged.

 

"See? You can't be sure. She's his type though."

 

She looked at Hot Pie with wide eyes. "His type? Gendry has a type?"

 

"Yeah," Hot Pie casually said. "Bossy, skinny brunettes."

 

Arya's heart sank even further. Thin and brunette could be used to describe the girl's appearance, though she couldn't be sure if she was bossy as well. She supposed she would figure it later, when Gendry introduced her to them. If he ever did.

 

"Arya?"

 

"Yes?"

 

"Are you alright?"

 

"Yes," she forced herself to smile. "Are you hungry? Let's go to Sharna's."

 

"Only if you pay!"

 

She rolled her eyes. "Okay."

 

"Let's go then!"

 

The way to Sharna's was unusually quiet. Arya looked pensive as they waited for their orders and once the food arrived, and only spoke after she played with her soup for ten minutes.

 

"Hot Pie?"

 

"Mm?"

 

"Do you think I'm pretty? Dateable?" She asked him in all seriousness.

 

"Ew, why are you asking me those questions?" He took a sip of his drink.

 

"Just answer me, stupid!"

 

Hot Pie heaved a deep sigh. "As much as this pains me to say, yes, you are pretty and dateable, happy?"

 

Arya narrowed her eyes. "Are you lying to me?"

 

"Why would I? Look, Hot Pie said, putting his burger on the plate, "you are pretty and dateable, and if you don't see it then you are as stupid as you claim I am."

 

Arya smiled and reached out her arms to pull him close and press a kiss on his chubby cheek.

 

"That's gross, Arya! I'm trying to eat!"

 

"Shut up!" She laughed.

 

"That was my virgin cheek, you know? I was saving it for Sansa!"

 

"Gods, you are so stupid! how many times do I have to tell you? Sansa likes douchebags and assholes, not adorable little shits like you."

 

"She will like me one day, I'll make her fall in love with me with the power of my baking skills.

 

Arya snorted. Hot Pie was determined that was for sure. For a second, she imagined what would happen if a miracle occured and her sister got better taste in men and ended up dating Hot Pie. He would probably bake a daily batch of lemoncakes just for her. Even in Arya's imagination, her sister was lucky.

 

"And let me tell you," Hot Pie brought Arya out of her thoughts, "if Gendry were here, he would tell you the same."

 

"Tell me what?" Arya asked, finally taking a spoonful of her creamy potato soup.

 

"That you are pretty and dateable, of course."

 

Arya's expression dropped a little and she chuckled. "I doubt it. He has a type, remember? Bossy, skinny brunettes."

 

"Yeah. And you certainly don't fit in it." Hot Pie cleaned his mouth and stood up quickly. "Gotta go, I promised mom I would help her bake some pies tonight, thanks for the burger!"

 

"Wait, aren't you going to wait for Gendry?"

 

"He's not the only one who can lie," he shrugged and said goodbye.

 

Arya kept playing with her food after Hot Pie left, thinking about what her friend had said.

 

*****

 

"Where's Arya, Hot Pie?" Gendry asked his friend, taking a tray.

 

"She went ahead to grab a table outside," he said, reaching for a bunch of napkins. "Look," Hot Pie pointed with his free hand, "she's over there."

 

Gendry turned around and spotted Arya immediately, only she wasn't alone.

 

"Why is Mr. Handkerchief sitting at our table?"

 

"Dunno," he shrugged. "Oh, perhaps he's gonna ask Arya to the dance?"

 

Gendry gave Hot Pie a disconcerting look.

 

"Perfect place for a first kiss," Hot Pie seemed oblivious of his friend's troubled expression. "And you know what they say, the first kiss lasts forever."

 

Gendry dropped his tray and walked hurriedly and furiously towards the table where Arya and Edric were sitting. He stood behind Edric, towering over him.

 

Arya looked up and Edric turned around as he felt Gendry's presence.

 

"Move," was all Gendry said.

 

Edric, being the courteous and polite guy that he was, stood up quickly and gave his place to Gendry without protest.

 

"I'll talk to you later, okay?"

 

"Sure," Arya nodded, giving him a smile.

 

Gendry rolled his eyes.

 

"What's up with you?"Arya asked him as he sat by her side.

 

"Are you really going out with him?"

 

"Huh?"

 

"Are you going out with Edric?"

 

"What makes you think I am?"

 

"He sends you flowers, he is always following you around, you seem to like him . . ." He trailed off.

 

"Well, he's nice."

 

Gendry's jaw line looked so tense Arya was afraid it would break.

 

"So, are you two together?"

 

"No."

 

"Good."

 

"Good?"

 

"Yes," he muttered, "because I don't want you to date anyone."

 

Arya snorted. "What gives you the right, stupid?"

 

Gendry looked pained, but determined. "You deserve better than a pompous little shit!"

 

Arya was angry now, his attitude was annoying and unnecesary. "And who could be better for me? Please enlighten me!"

 

"Me!" He said out loud.

 

Arya's eyes went wide. "You?" The surprise, excitement and fear were equally present in her voice.

 

"Yes," he said, moving closer to her. "If you want me, I'm yours," he spoke in all seriousness, looking hopeful and even a bit shy.

 

She blinked a couple of times. She did want Gendry. _Badly._ Arya had been wanting him for a while now, ever since that little incident when she got to see a glimpse of his naked ass.

 

"I want you," she said without hesitation.

 

Gendry smiled and wrapped one of his arms around her waist. "I'm gonna kiss you," he let her know, giving her the chance to avoid his kiss if she wanted, as he kept moving his lips towards hers.

 

"Less talk, more action," she murmured right before their mouths met.

 

Gendry leaned closer to her but it was Arya who closed the gap between them and pressed an eager kiss on his lips.

 

She made a mess of his thick hair and his face was as red as a tomato by the time she was done with him. And it only got redder as the other students began shouting, whisteling and clapping at their mid break show.

 

"Fuck, you are good," he muttered. "Are you naturally talented or were you kissing many boys before me?"

 

"Stupid," she smiled, pressing a little kiss to the corner of his lips that he happily welcomed.

 

Gendry wanted to continue kissing her, but Arya stopped him, pushing her hands against his chest.

 

"Wait, before we continue with this, I need to know something."

 

"What is it?" Gendry asked her, rubbing her nose against her cheek.

 

"What about that girl from the Crossroads Inn?

 

"Who?" Gendry stopped nuzzling her face to look at her.

 

"I saw you with a girl. She was pretty. Brunette. Skinny," she listed.

 

"You mean Willow?"

 

"I don't know, I had never seen her before, and you never introduced her to us," she said bitterly.

 

Gendry grinned. "Were you jealous?"

 

"You wish!"

 

"She's just a friend, don't worry," he assured her.

 

"Then why did you lie to Hot Pie when he called you? You told him you were working at the garage," she reproached him.

 

Gendry got a puzzled expression. "Have you two been spying on me?"

 

"No!"

 

Gendry laughed out loud. "You are adorable."

 

"Call me adorable again and I will kick you in the balls."

 

"Lovely."

 

"But why did you lie?"

 

Gendry sighed. "I'm working a second job during the weekends," he explained to her, "the money has been running short and Tobho hasn't been well lately, so I need the extra cash. I know Willow from my old school and she helped me get a job at her family's business."

 

Arya felt sorry for him and ashamed for acting like a stupid little girl. She wrapped her arms around him and Gendry hugged her back.

 

"I didn't tell Hot Pie because he has a big mouth and I was sure he would run to tell his mother or Sharna, and they already do more than enough for me," he continued explaining.

 

"I'm sorry," she apologized as she tightened her hold on him and pressed a kiss on his shoulder.

 

"What can I do to help you?" She let go of him, so she could meet his eyes. "I could ask my dad-"

 

Gendry kissed her again, cutting her words short.

 

Arya frowned. "You can't do that," she murmured against his lips.

 

"Do what?"

 

"Kiss my words away," she replied.

 

"I can try," he smirked.

 

Arya shook her head and Gendry smiled at her and caressed her face with his fingertips.

 

"You worry too much," he told her, pressing a kiss to her temple, "I'll manage, we'll be fine, trust me" he assured her.

 

Arya gave him a sweet smile as he threaded his fingers between her soft ones.

 

"Okay," Arya reluctantly agreed, "but I'll kick you ass if you try something funny with Maple.

 

"Willow," he corrected her.

 

"Whatever. And I'll kick you even harder if you don't ask for my help next time."

 

Gendry chuckled and stared at her lovingly, looking at Arya with the most tender expression.

 

She flushed and muttered a soft stupid.

 

"And what are we going to do with Dayne?"

 

"What do you mean?" She frowned.

 

"Well, isn't he in love with you? He sent you flowers the other day," Gendry growled in disgust and annoyance.

 

"About that . . . it wasn't Edric," Arya shook her head, "I asked him, he didn't sent them."

 

Gendry gave her a worried look. "Who could have been then?"

 

"No idea," she shrugged, "perhaps they got the wrong locker, but . . ." she trailed off.

 

"But?"

 

"Well, the flowers they sent me are my favorites, it would be too much of a coincidence that another person in the school likes the exact same flowers."

 

Gendry got his thinking face on. "It doesn't matter," he told her, "you are my girlfriend now, the idiot who sent you the flowers better stay away from you or I'll make him."

 

Arya rolled her eyes. "Don't be such a bull."

 

"You love it when I act all bull like, admit it," he winked at her.

 

"Shut up," Arya bit her lip to stop herself from smiling. "Where's Hot Pie? I'm starving!"

 

Gendry looked around, trying to spot their friend among the crowd. "I swear he was right behind me," he turned to look at Arya with a foolish grin.

 

"What's with the face?"

 

"It's nice being just the two of us, isn't it? he asked her, leaning in to kiss her again.

 

Arya's stomach growled loudly before he could kiss her, protesting the lack of food.

 

"Thank you for ruining the moment, Stark," he laughed.

 

"Sorry," she apologized with a smile, right before pressing a peck on his lips.

 

Meanwhile, on the other side of the courtyard, Hot Pie took out his phone and snapped a picture.

 

"Finally! What a pair of idiots," he shook his head, sighing in relief.

 

He quickly typed in a message to which he attached the picture.

 

_Mission accomplished. Operation bring the wolf and bull together was a success. You guys owe me big._

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was unnecessarily long, sorry.


	42. Drowning Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A couple of readers requested a sequel so I wrote it.

 

 

"Why won't you look at me? Is it my tail?"  She asked him, taken aback by his reaction. 

 

"No, m'lady," he replied, refusing to meet her eyes. 

 

"Why do you keep calling me like that? I'm a mermaid!" She exclaimed. "Are you scared of merfolk? Do you think I'll kill you?" 

 

"It's not that," he shook his head nervously, "your chest . . . it's bare," he said, looking everywhere but at her. 

 

She looked down at her chest and frowned. Did women not have breasts? She was sure they did. She had even seen sailors with larger breasts than hers. She really didn't understand what his problem was. "You chest is bare too." 

 

"I know, but it's different." 

 

She frowned. "Why?" 

 

"Because men . . . women . . . " he trailed off and his face got a pained expression, as if it hurt him to to think. "I don't know, it's just the way it is, women are not supposed to expose their naked bodies." 

 

"Well that's stupid," she huffed and then grinned as an idea came to her mind. She moved closer to him and whispered on his ear. "Thankfully, I am a mermaid, not a woman. You can touch my breasts if you want, I don't mind." 

 

"That's not proper," he gulped, still refusing to look at her.

 

"Huh? Is it not?" She smirked and reached out her hands to rub his chest with them. 

 

He shivered at the feeling of her touch and quickly stopped her, holding her softly by the wrists. "What are you doing?" he asked her, finally meeting her grey eyes. 

 

"Being improper," she offered him a smile. 

 

He flushed, and some color reappeared on his cheeks. "You shouldn't do that," he told her. 

 

"Why not?" 

 

"Because most men would take any sign of encouragement to hurt you." 

 

"But I know you won't. And most men I have encountered so far died long before they even had the opportunity to hurt me," she assured him.

 

A fearful expression took over his face. "Have you killed many men?" 

 

"I've killed enough." 

 

"Are you going to kill me?" 

 

"No. You are mine." 

 

" _Yours_ . . ." He said softly, relieved and scared, not knowing exactly what she meant. 

 

"What about my tail?" She asked him, trying to bring him out of his clearly troubled thoughts. "Can you look at it? Is it proper if you look at it?" she wondered. 

 

"I don't know, I suppose," he said, lowering his gaze, doing his best effort to not look at her breasts. 

 

"Do you think it's pretty?" 

 

"It's beautiful," he replied with no hesitation in his voice.  

 

"Truly? Almost all my siblings inherited my mother's colors. Only my brother Jon and I got our father's. My sister always makes fun of me for it, she says my tail is too plain and ordinary." 

 

"It's not to me," he said, staring closely at her shiny, grey tail, admiring the intricate patterns formed by the scales. "It almost looks like Valyrian steel," he told her. 

 

"You can touch it, if you want."  

 

"I- I don't think it's right, I'm not sure-" 

 

"I touched that floppy thing you have between your legs," she interrupted him, "it's only fair." 

 

"You what?" He asked her, looking mortified. 

 

"I touched it. Why does it grow hard? And what are the soft pebbles underneath for?" 

 

"You . . . you touched my cock?" 

 

His face went from a pale bluish color to plain red. 

 

"Cock? Is that what it is called?" She scrunched up her nose. "What an ugly name!" 

 

"You touched it?" 

 

"Are you stupid? Yes! I told you so!" 

 

"Why did you touch it?" 

 

"Because I was curious and it felt nice. You enjoyed it too, I could tell." 

 

"Seven Hells," he cursed, "how much water did I drink?" he asked himself, letting his body fall on the sand. 

 

"A lot of it, trust me," she told him, dragging herself closer to him. 

 

"That explains it all," he said, with his eyes closed and one of his arms thrown over his forehead. 

 

"What?" 

 

"I must be dead or dreaming," he sighed. "You don't exist, you are only part of my imagination." 

 

"Hey, I'm very much real!" She assured him, jumping on top of him. 

 

He shivered as he felt her wet, slippery skin and her nipples rubbing against his naked chest. 

 

"Seven Hells," he muttered again, opening his eyes to look at her. 

 

"Oh! It's getting hard again," she grinned wickedly. 

 

He meant to throw her off him, but she kept her arms securely locked around him, and managed to roll herself under him. 

 

"You like that, don't you?" 

 

"Shut up," he ordered her.  

 

His voice sounded pained, but she could also hear a hint of pleasure too. 

 

She caressed his bearded cheek with the back of her fingers. "You are handsome, for a sailor." 

 

"I'm not a sailor," he huffed. "I'm a blacksmith." 

 

"What's a blacksmith?" 

 

"A person who works with metals," he explained. "I used to make helmets and swords." 

 

Her eyes were wide open with excitement and surprise. "You can make swords?" she asked him with a breathy smile. 

 

"Yes," he chuckled softly. 

 

"I have always wanted one. I have many hidden, but they are old and rusty and corals keep growing on them." 

 

"That's what water does to metal." 

 

"I know that, stupid," she rolled her eyes. 

 

He set his lips on a firm line and she traced them with her fingertips. 

 

"You humans taste different. Sweet." 

 

"That's not true," he shook his head. "Some taste sour, others start sweet, but end up tasting bitter. Poisonous." 

 

She furrowed her eyebrows, listening closely to him, curious by the dark, sad expression that had taken over his face. 

 

"Well, you tasted sweet to me," she smiled at him, stroking his face gently. "There's nothing bitter or sour about you." 

 

"Is that so?" He asked her, unaware he kept leaning closer to her. 

 

"Yes." 

 

"I want to taste you," he told her. 

 

She grinned. "Then what are you waiting for?" 

 

Arya knew she would be late. She was sure her father would be worried and her mother upset, but as he pressed his lips on hers she knew she couldn't care less. 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized I broke the 100k word mark. Also, I need to stop writing sequels because they are never good.
> 
> iamdisgusted.gif


	43. Bear Island

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An anonymous on Tumblr requested this over a month ago. This story contains 0.01% of OTP, so if you are looking for an AryaxGendry centric fic, I suggest you to skip this one. This will be the only story of this kind, the ones to come will be focused on Arya and Gendry again.
> 
> Anon, if you are reading this, I hope you like it. I did my best but I believe it wasn't enough, lol.
> 
> As always, don't pay too much attention to the spelling and grammar. I really need a beta... or improve my English, haha. ToT

 

 

"I will not go!" Arya exclaimed angrily. "They will not make me!"

 

Jon chuckled, amused by her lovely fury. "You have to, little sister. Your mother will not change her mind and Father has already agreed."

 

Arya crossed her arms over her chest and huffed, leaning against the window. "It's all Septa Mordane's fault. And Sansa's. They wanted me away from Winterfell and they succeeded."

 

Jon smiled at her apologetically. He knew better than anyone how painful it felt knowing that you were not welcomed or wanted in your own home.

 

"But what if . . ." She trailed off, and her solemn face turned wicked.

 

"What if?" He asked her, wondering what sort of mischief she was planning.

 

"What if I run away?" She said. "Oh Jon," she stood up, filled with childish hope, "we could run away together!" She suggested excitedly, walking towards him and taking his hands in hers.

 

"You don't want that, little sister," he gave her a sad smile. "You would be happy away from Septa Mordane and her sewing lessons, but could you be happy being far away from Father and Winterfell? From Robb, Bran and Rickon? Even Sansa?"

 

Arya bit her lip. "No, I suppose not," she became quiet for a moment. "However, I wouldn't mind being far from Sansa for some time," she shrugged, looking at Jon with a twinkle in her eye.

 

They both stared seriously at each other before bursting out in laughter

 

Jon mussed up her hair and Arya swatted his hand away, grinning.

 

"It won't be so sad, I promise," he assured her. "You could even enjoy yourself."

 

Arya sighed and went back to take a seat by the window sill.

 

"I doubt it, it is supposed to be a punishment. And what will I do without you? I could never be happy without you."

 

Jon smiled and went to her side, sitting close to her.

 

"You will only be away for a year and I will write to you as much as I am able to. You can send me as many letters as you wish, too," he gave her a sideways look, "you could use the practice, improve that messy handwriting of yours," he pushed her softly.

 

"Shut up!" She elbowed him, scowling playfully at him. "But Jon, what if they forbid me from writing to you? What if mother asks them not to let me?"

 

"If that happens, I know you will find a way to write to me anyway," he laughed.

 

She laughed with him and he tucked some of her scruffy hair away from her eyes, which always looked at him with love and kindness. Jon often wondered if his mother had had the opportunity to look at him in the same way.

 

"Mormont Keep is not as big as Winterfell, but I can assure you it is not lacking in potential for adventures. People say there are more bears than horses on the island, perhaps you could even manage to tame one and bring it home," he chuckled.

 

Arya beamed at his suggestion.

 

"Do you know what is the best thing about Bear Island, little sister?" He whispered close to her.

 

She shook her head, her eyes full of eager curiosity.

 

"They have no Septas over there."

 

Arya gave him a toothy smile and wrapped her arms around him. "Thank you, Jon."

 

He hugged her close and ran his thin fingers through her matted hair. He would miss mussing up her hair as much as he would miss looking into her lovely grey eyes. He would miss her dearly.

 

All of a sudden, Arya tightened her hold on him and burrowed her face on his chest.

 

"What's wrong?" He asked her, leaning back to look at her, but she only hid her face deeper into his doublet.

 

"I had a nightmare the other day," she muttered softly. "I dreamt you left for the Wall before I returned, without saying goodbye."

 

Jon rested his cheek on top of her head. "I would never do that, rest assured. And I'm not going anywhere, not before you return at least."

 

Arya looked at him worriedly. "What do you mean? Are you planning to leave?"

 

"Not for now, but I will one day."

 

"Why?"

 

"You know why, little sister," he smiled sadly at her, caressing her face.

 

Arya bit her lip. She did know the reason and she hated how unfair everything was. Jon was good, her best brother, he didn't deserve to be treated differently because he didn't have a mother.

 

"Do not worry," he told her. "No matter where I go, you'll always be with me."

 

"But how?" She frowned.

 

He took her soft hand in his and placed it over his heart. "As long as I keep you here," he said, "you will be with me. And you will always have me, and my heart."

 

"Jon . . ." She buried her face on his chest again and hugged him tight. She might have been young and her arms skinny, but she hold onto him with a incredible strength.

 

He pressed a kiss on top of her head and let himself enjoy her warmth, savoring their last moments together.

 

Arya started breathing him in, sniffing at his clothes like a dog.

 

"What are you doing?" he chuckled. "Pretending to be a wolf pup?"

 

"No, stupid," she replied, still sniffing at him, "I'm just memorizing your smell."

 

"What for?"

 

"To have another memory of you, of course!" She grinned at him, though her eyes were glassy with unshed tears.

 

"I'll give you something better for you to remember me."

 

"What? Tell me!"

 

"You'll see," he told her.

 

 

*

 

It was very early in the morning when the time for Arya to leave Winterfell for Bear Island arrived, and her family stood in the courtyard to say their goodbyes and wish her a safe journey.

 

Luckily for her, Septa Mordane had had to stay inside the castle since she had been hit with a sudden cold. Arya was thankful that she had been graceful enough to let her have this one moment with her family.

 

Rickon clinged to Arya, begging her to take him to Bear Island, but she could only promise she would bring him a present on her return. A bear cub perhaps.

 

Robb hugged her and gave her his special smile, the one he always saved for her after she had been reprimanded by their mother or Septa Mordane.

 

Bran promised her he would bring apples to her horse during her absence and that he would wait for her, so they could both climb to the top of the tallest tree in the godswood for the first time together.

 

Sansa told her to enjoy her sewing lessons with a smile that was so sweet and fake, Arya thought her sister would make a great mummer. Or a terrible one, if the audience was as good as Arya to read behind her mask.

 

Her mother hugged her close and pressed a kiss to her cheek, but not before trying to fix her braided bun one last time. Her mother had never had the time or the wish to brush her hair, but she had actually brushed and styled her hair that morning. Arya felt happy to know she cared, even if it was annoying.

 

Her father came last and when Arya met his eyes, she had to force herself not to cry and beg him to let her stay.

 

The night before, she had promised herself she would prove her mother, Sansa and Septa Mordane wrong, and she would not break her own promise. She was stubborn and she had pride and she would not let them win, not this time. She would be strong.

 

Her father bent down to press a kiss on her forehead, craddling her long face between his hands.

 

"Are you ready?"

 

"Yes, Father," she replied, refusing to meet his eyes.

 

"Remember that you are a Stark. Comport yourself with dignity at Bear Island, and try to stay out of fights."

 

"I will, Father," she replied, her gaze fixed on the ground.

 

Her father took her chin between her fingers and lifted her face so their eyes met.

 

"But if you have to fight," he paused as his expression turned nostalgic, "win."

 

Arya nodded and smiled at him. "I will make you proud, Father."

 

"You always make me proud, sweet one," he told her, bringing her into his arms. "My wolf blooded little girl."

 

Her father led her to the wheelhouse and Arya stopped for a moment to take one last look at her home.

 

Her heart filled with joy and a knot formed in her throat when she looked behind her and saw Winterfell's people lined up to say goodbye.

 

Old Nan and Hodor, Harwin and his father, Mikken, Fat Tom, the kitchen maids with their children, the stable boys, even the butcher and his son Mycah, with whom she used to play until Septa Mordane had put an end to their friendship, all of them and more had come to see her go.

 

In that moment, Arya decided she would try her hardest to make them proud too. They were part of her pack as well, the family she had chosen, and she did not wish to disappoint them.

 

She took a deep breath to calm the howling in her heart. She would miss her home and its people, but she would miss Jon the most. It pained her greatly that he had not been allowed to send her off with the rest of the family.

 

As her eyes passed by the entrance to the stables, she found Jon standing there. He smiled at her and waved goodbye. She meant to wave back, but stopped herself before she did, worried her mother could see him.

 

However, her eyes remained on Jon and she bit her lip. She decided she would be selfish, just this once.

 

She hopped off from the wheelhouse and ran past her father, ignoring her mother's warnings, encouraged by Bran's words and Rickon's carefree laughter. She ran fast until she met Jon and her skinny arms were wrapped around his neck.

 

"I was afraid you wouldn't come out to say goodbye."

 

"I'll miss you, little sister."

 

"I'll miss you, too. So much," she sobbed into the warmth of his neck.

 

"Go on now, before your mother adds another year to your fosterage."

 

He put her back on the ground and bent down, whispering close to her.

 

"I left you a little present in your trunk."

 

Arya smiled. "A present?" She asked him excitedly.

 

"A memory for you to remember by," he told her, caressing her cheek. "Use it well," he said last, winking at her.

 

She nodded and jumped into his arms again to shower him with kisses.

 

 

*

 

Arya hated that she had not been allowed to ride with the rest of the party. Her mother had ordered Jory to make sure she stayed inside the stuffy wheelhouse during the whole journey and she could not have been more disappointed.

 

It hurt that her mother had prohibited from doing the one thing she was good at. She hadn't even had the chance to look for wild flowers or try to spot a bear.

 

"Are you enjoying the view, little Lady?" Jory asked her.

 

She poked her head out of the small window and huffed. "Of course not," she scowled, "I can barely see anything!"

 

Jory gave her an apologetic smile. "Would you like to take some fresh air? Get a glimpse of the island before we cross?"

 

Her eyes went wide with surprise. "Would you let me?"

 

"Of course," he chuckled. "Just don't tell your Lady Mother," he begged her.

 

"I will not!" She assured him, jumping out of the moving housewheel, not caring one bit about her safety or keeping her boots and dress clean.

 

Jory didn't even bother to yell at the coachman to stop, he simply pulled on the reins of his horse and scooped her up, placing Arya in front of him.

 

"Ready, little Lady?"

 

"I'm ready," she nodded.

 

"You forgot your cloack."

 

"A little cold won't kill me," she shrugged. "I am a Stark."

 

Jory bit back a smile, knowing how proud his little Lady was, and took off his furs, placing them over her thin shoulders. "Stark or not, I don't want you to catch a cold."

 

Arya thanked him and held onto him. The wind was cold and salty and there was a soft breeze falling, but she couldn't care less. She felt free and the view was impressive.

 

Winterfell and its surroundings were beautiful, but so was Bear Island. She could see all kinds of trees, some rocky hills and even a magestic waterfall in the distance. Jon had been right, she was sure the island was the perfect place for adventures.

 

For a moment, she closed her eyes and imagined it was Jon and not Jory riding with her. She thought of him and wished he was here, sharing this moment with her, but she shook her head and did not allow herself to be sad.

 

After a couple of hours, the party finally reached the coast where a small ship and some smaller boats were awaiting for their arrival, all bearing the sigil of House Mormont.

 

Arya was surprised to see there were as many women as there were men among the host party. She didn't know what to think of it, but she was surprised in a pleasant way.

 

"Welcome to Bear Island, Lady Arya," a short, plump woman wearing ringmail and boiled leather made her way to the front of the host party to greet her.

 

"Thank you," Arya said plainly, and then she mentally kicked herself for forgetting her courtesies, "my lady," she added after an awkward pause.

 

The woman regarded her for a moment before giving her a big smile. Her teeth were big and crooked, but her smile was kind and sincere. Arya liked her already.

 

"Have you ever been on a ship?"

 

"Never," Arya shook her head.

 

"Do you know how to swim?"

 

"Yes," Arya said confidently. "My brother Jon-" she bit her lip, remembering one of her mother's many warnings, "my half-brother says I swim as good as a fish."

 

The woman burst out in laughter. "Good, good," she said, "and who is this handsome man?" She asked her, looking at Jory, whose cheeks went red.

 

"He is Jory Cassel, one of my father's most trusted men," Arya said with pride.

 

"Handsome and with a sweet name," the woman said. "Well, I hope you know how to swim too," she told him, patting his arm with more strength than it was necessary. "Come, Lady Mormont has been waiting for you and she hates waiting for people," she grinned as she led them towards the ship.

 

 

*

 

Their trip aboard _The Small Paw_ was short but not uneventful. The winds were strong and the waves high and both caused the ship to move like a little leaf floating on a rapid stream. There were moments when the sea hit the ship so hard, Arya thought they were being attacked by a kraken from one of the many tales Old Nan used to tell her and her brothers about before going to bed.

 

Half way through their voyage, some of men who had accompanied her in the last part of her journey became seasick while the rest was too concerned about her well being to allow the sickness take over their bodies.

 

Fortunately, they arrived safely to the island and by the end of the trip Arya wished they had traveled for a little longer.

 

They quickly unloaded her belongings and whatever gifts her mother had sent to the Mormonts and they were back on the road, in the relative comfort and safety of solid ground.

 

The party reached Mormont Keep after mid morning. Arya thought they were going to let her rest and change clothes, as her mother usually did with their highborn visitors, so she could meet them for the midday meal, but she was wrong. Lady Mormont did not want to wait any longer to meet her.

 

Arya rubbed her cheeks a little and unconsciously ran one of her hands over her hair, tucking some of the rebellious wisps back into place.

 

She walked towards the main hall, with Jory a few steps behind her, and she bit her lip as her name was announced.

 

"Lady Arya of House Stark," a deep voice called her name.

 

Jory gave her a reassuring smile before she walked ahead, stepping through the heavy wooden doors.

 

"My Lady," she said as she stopped in the middle of the room, doing a very unpolished curtsey that came a few seconds too late.

 

Lady Maege Mormont did not look impressed by the gesture. She was sitting in the middle of a long table, flanked by three women with curious looks.

 

"Welcome to Bear Island, Lady Arya," she greeted her, her voice deep and her eyes piercing.

 

"Thank you, my lady."

 

"Come closer, child."

 

Arya did as she was told, trying her best to keep her chin up and her arms steady. Lady Mormont was imposing, much more than her own lady mother.

 

The woman leaned over the table, as if trying to take a better look at Arya, and stared at her silence.

 

Arya ran her hands over the skirt of her dress, feeling a little stupid. None of the ladies present were dressed in pretty clothes or fancy dresses, they all wore practical leather vests and simple furs, thought she couldn't say with certainity if they were wearing skirts or breeches since their legs were hidden by the table.

 

"You look exactly like your aunt Lyanna when she was your age."

 

Arya was taken aback by the comparison and spoke the first thing that came to her mind. "My aunt was beautiful," she said, "I am not."

 

"Did you meet your aunt Lyanna?" The woman asked her.

 

Arya shook her head.

 

"Well I did, and if I tell you that you look like her then you must believe me."

 

"Yes, my lady," she replied, but she didn't take her words seriously.

 

"Though she didn't dress so much like a Southron I have to say," Lady Mormont added, arching one of her eyebrows at her, as if she was challenging her.

 

Arya frowned and looked at her dress. Did she truly looked like a Southron lady? She couldn't be sure, but she doubted it. Perhaps Lady Mormont would have to see Sansa in one of her many dresses to recognize how a Southron lady truly looked and dressed like, since her sister was always trying to imitate the fancy and pompous styles of the women coming to visit them from below the Neck.

 

"My mother made this for me," she finally told her, pointing at her acorn collar dress. It had a direwolf stitched in one of her sleeves and it was by far the more practical and fashionable of her dresses. "She is from the South and she is a lady, so it's only logical the dress looks like this," she blurted out before she could stop her tongue. Arya swore she could see her mother's outraged face staring at her. Before she could apologize for her insolence, Lady Mormont and the other women started laughing.

 

Arya did nothing but stare at them in silence. Were they making fun of her?

 

"Lady Arya knows how to bite," one of the women said, "don't you agree, Mother?"

 

"I do," Lady Mormont chuckled.

 

_Mother?_ Arya's eyes went wide. The young woman wasn't dressed like a proper lady and her hair was short, shorter than Rickon's curly locks, and Lady Mormont didn't seem to mind.

 

Suddenly, another door opened and in came the same woman who had welcome her earlier.

 

"Excuse my tardiness, my cub wouldn't let me go," she said happily, sitting in the only empty chair left.

 

"I hope my daughter took proper care of you on your way here, Lady Arya," the Mormont matriarch said.

 

"She did, my lady." Arya bit her lip. She had completely forgotten to ask the woman's name when they met. She had, in fact, failed to introduce herself to the rest of the women present. Arya imagined Septa Mordane would have been completely embarrassed and angry by her lack of manners. "I'm sorry, I-"

 

"I apologize, Lady Arya," the older woman interrupted her, "I forgot my courtesies and did not introduce you to my daughters," she told her. "You must excuse me, proper manners are not my strong point you see," she explained.

 

Arya smiled and shook her head. "I always forget my courtesies as well, my Septa often says that even an apprentice from Flea Botton, wherever that place is, has more and better manners than I have.

 

Lady Mormont wrinkled her nose in disgust. "A Septa? By the Old Gods, your poor child," she huffed, looking sorry for her for a moment before she let a small smile fill her face again. "Lady Arya, allow me to introduce you to my eldest daughter, Dacey."

 

"A pleasure to meet you, Lady Arya," the woman offered with a kind smile.

 

"The pleasure is mine," Arya replied.

 

"This is my daughter Lyra," she continued.

 

"Pleased to meet you," she said with a brief nod

 

Arya smiled at her.

 

"And you have met my daughter Alysane."

 

"I have," Arya nodded, smiling.

 

"You must excuse my younger daughters' absence, they are busy with their lessons and I don't wish to interrupt them."

 

"Of course, I understand, sewing lessons are very important," Arya forced herself to say, trying to be as gracious as possible. She felt stupid.

 

The women looked at each other, exchanging curious looks. Arya noticed their strange expressions and wondered what she had done wrong.

 

"Sewing is one of the most important skills women can posses," she added, trying to sound as sincere as possible and failing.

 

Lady Alysane snorted loudly while the rest of the women tried to contain their laughter. Lady Mormont stood up and walked towards Arya.

 

"Come, child, you must be hungry," she said, taking Arya's hand and patting her forearm softly. "And while we eat you can tell us all about that Septa of yours and all the things she has been teaching you."

 

" _Horseshit_ ," Alysane muttered, "that is exactly what she has been teaching her," she laughed.

 

 

*

 

Arya threw herself onto the featherbed and heaved a deep sigh, feeling tired and sleepy after a very long day. She kicked off her boots, not bothering to untie them properly, and decided she wouldn't change into her nightgown, she just pulled the blankets over her body and closed her eyes.

 

As she started to drift off, Jon's last words came to her mind.

 

_Use it well._

 

Arya kicked the blankets off of her and in one second she was on her feet, hurrying to open her trunk and look for Jon's gift.

 

She pulled out dresses and skirts she hoped she wouldn't have to wear, throwing them on the floor with very little care, completely unafraid Sept Mordane would come in and punish her for it. She took out the breeches she had stolen from Bran, all her underclothes and the fancy furs her mother had forced her to pack. And finally, at the very bottom of the trunk, she found a bundle of cloth with a piece of parchment paper tucked in one of the folds.

 

She took the paper and unfolded it, finding Jon's writing inside.

 

 

_Arya,_

 

_Have you gotten into trouble yet?_

_I hope this present will help you to feel less lonely during your stay on Bear Island. I had Mikken made it for you special, with the proper size to fit that little hand of yours. Think of me every time you hold it._

_Girls might not get the swords, but I will not let you remain unarmed. I cannot change the rules, little sister, but for you, I will break them._

_Needle is no toy. Use it well._

 

_Jon_

 

 

With a smile on her lips and tears running down her cheeks, Arya unwrapped the cloth. She gasped as her eyes caught sight of the thin blade. She recognized it immediately. It was a Braavosi sword, the kind used by water dancers, the same blade the hero from one of her favorite stories owned.

 

She took the sword and marveled at its beauty, the bluish tint of the steel shone brightly even in near darkeness of her chamber. Arya ran her fingertips slowly along the blade, admiring its sharpness and how light it was. She would not be able to cut off a man's head with it, but she could certainly poke him full of holes if she had to.

 

A smile took over her face as she noticed the inticrate pattern of flowers engraved on the hilt of the sword. Mikken was a great blacksmith and Jon knew her better than anyone.

 

"Needle," she whispered softly, sounding almost in love.

 

The sword was beautiful and it was hers.

 

That night, she went to bed with Needle by her side and loving Jon even more than she did before.

 

 

*

 

Early next morning, Arya was ready to begin with her lessons.

 

She put on a simple dress, confident her hosts wouldn't mind her more simple garment, and she braided her hair as best as she was able to, her clumsy fingers were just as useless to tame her messy locks as they were to work the needle and thread it seemed.

 

_Needle._ She smiled, counting the hours until she could have it in her hands again, hoping she would find the time to take it out of its hiding place and wishing she would find a partner to practice with.

 

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts.

 

"Come in."

 

"Good morning, milady," the maid said, a young girl not much older than her sister. "Are you ready for your morning lessons?"

 

Arya stood up, sighing, never ready to sew more flowers that would always end up looking like her tangled hair after a run through the godswood. "I'm ready."

 

The young maid looked at Arya and furrowed her brows in confusion. "Why are you dressed like that, milady? That will not do," she told her, shaking her head and moving towards her trunk.

 

"I thought this dress would be proper for attending sewing lessons."

 

The maid stopped what she was doing and turned to look at Arya. "Sewing?" The girl chuckled. "No, milady, your lessons require a different kind of clothes," she giggled, diving deeper into her trunk.

 

 

*

 

After getting dressed for a second time that morning, Arya found herself excited and nervous as she got closer to the courtyard, where Jorelle and Lyra Mormont were sparring under the watchful eye of their older sister, Alysanne, who kept shouting commands at them.

 

Arya couldn't help but feel a pang of jealousy, wondering if she would ever have the chance to do something with her sister that both enjoyed. She doubted that. They were too different and as they grew older, their differences became much more significant, pushing them further apart. Sansa would be bethrohed soon and married some time after that and Arya knew their chance to be close would be gone forever.

 

She shook her head, pushing those useless thoughts out of her mind. "I'm sorry for being late, I had to change my clothes," she smiled, anxious to begin with her lessons.

 

"Good morning, Lady Arya."

 

The woman turned around to greet her and Arya's eyes went wide when she saw a babe suckling on her exposed breast. She had seen other women's breasts before, many of the kitchen maids back at Winterfell often fed their babes while they worked, so the sight of a bare breast wasn't surprising or new for her, but she had never seen a woman holding a babe with one arm while the other carried a sword.

 

"How do you do it?" Arya asked her, completely in awe.

 

"How do I do what?"

 

"This," Arya said, moving her arms in all directions. "Being a mother and a swordswoman, holding your babe with one arm and carrying a sword with the other?"

 

"Well, the gods gave us two arms, didn't they?" she chuckled, "we better make good use of both."

 

Arya grinned, but her smile fell as she remembered Septa Mordane's words. "My Septa always says women should know their place. She says a woman's hands are made for praying and sewing and comforting her husband.

 

"And do you believe her?"

 

Arya shook her head. "No, but my mother wants me to."

 

"Then your lady mother should have thought twice before sending you here," she said. "A woman can be more than one thing, you know?" Lady Alysane told her as she rested her blade against the railing to pick up a pratice sword. "A woman can be a warrior and a wife, a mother and a outlaw," she moved closer to Arya to hold her chin between her plump fingers, "a lady and a she-wolf."

 

Arya smiled. "I like the sound of that."

 

"Good." She let go of her face and handed her a wooden sword. "So, Lady Arya, are you ready to practice?"

 

"I am!" she replied excitedly, hoping she wouldn't embarrass herself. A wooden stick was not the same as a practice sword, and playing swords with Bran was very different from what she was about to do.

 

 

*

 

"Here you are! I've been looking for you."

 

"Sorry, Lya," Arya apologized.

 

"What are you doing?" Lyanna asked as she sat by her friend's side.

 

"I'm writing a letter to Jon, his name day is coming soon," she explained.

 

Lyanna frowned. "Why not write it inside the keep? Where it's dry and filled with flat surfaces."

 

Arya smiled, her friend was always practical and logical. "I like it here, the view is pretty, I feel like I can almost see Winterfell from this place," she said, as she folded the piece of paper in half and placed it inside her doublet.

 

Lyanna raised one of her eyebrows at her, not believing her words.

 

Arya met her friend's eyes and remained silent for a moment until a grin appeared on her lips.

 

"I knew it!" Lyanna exclaimed. "You came here to practice with Needle, didn't you?"

 

"Yes," Arya replied, taking her thin blade out of its hiding place and trying to look ashamed.

 

"If my mother finds out, she won't let you practice with Aly anymore, she warned you!"

 

"I know, but it's not fair!"

 

"Punishments are hardly ever fair," Lyanna said seriously. "Be grateful she didn't take Needle from you," she shook her head, "she's afraid you'll try to cut Willis again."

 

Arya huffed angrily, "It was mere a scratch!"

 

"He needed stitches, Arya."

 

"Then he better thank the gods I didn't poke him full of holes, he deserved it."

 

"You could have kicked him between his legs!"

 

"I would have if I had the chance," she explained, "I was taken by surprise."

 

"Did you like it?" Lyanna asked, her voice filled with curiosity.

 

"What?" Arya frowned.

 

"The kiss."

 

"What? No," she denied. "It was all sloppy and wet, if that's how kisses are supposed to be, then I don't want to be kissed ever again!"

 

"That's why Mother and Aly married bears," Lyanna told her very seriously.

 

Arya couldn't help it, she burst out in laughter at her friend's comment. Lyanna wasn't prone to jokes or mischief, but she had a way with words, an ability to say the silliest things with total seriousness.

 

"Stop it!" Lyanna told her with a smile, Arya's laughter prove to be contagious. "You are going to marry a wolf someday, you'll see!"

 

"Never," Arya scrunched up her nose. "I am a wolf already, I don't need to marry one."

 

"A bull then," Lyanna offered.

 

"I'll never marry," Arya shook her head. "I will travel the world, I'll visit my mother's home and then I'll go all the way to Dorne, to see the land where Queen Nymeria lived. Then I'll take a ship across the Narrow Sea to see the Titan of Braavos and I will remain there for some time, I will train to become a water dancer and perhaps then I'll come back, but only if I wish to."

 

"That sounds like a great adventure, but won't you miss your family?" Lyanna asked her.

 

Arya bit her lip. "I'll ask Jon to come with me, maybe Bran will join us."

 

Lyanna smiled. "I wish I could go too."

 

"Then come!" Arya smiled and she reached out to hold her friend's hand in hers. "What could possibly stop you?"

 

"Duty," Lyanna simply said.

 

Arya sighed. As much as she wanted to believe she would be free one day to run around the world to do as she pleased, she was also well aware of what her family expected of her, of what she had to become, of her duty as a Stark, but that did not mean she could not dream of a different future, one she could forge for herself. "Family, Duty, Honor," she whispered into the cold breeze.

 

Lyanna nodded. "We could still have adventures," she said. "The North is large and vast and we could explore it together," she gave Arya's hand a gentle squeeze.

 

"Together," Arya repeated, meeting her friend's eyes with a smile.

 

"Come, we must go back," Lyanna said and stood up, pulling Arya with her. "You have to finish your letter if you wish it arrives on time for your brother's name day.

 

"Yes, let's go." Arya strapped Needle to her waist under her cloak and took one last look into the horizon. "One day . . ." she whispered to herself.

 

 

*

 

The main hall was bursting with people, their words and laughter mixed with the cheerful music, filling the air with loud and joyful noises.

 

"Come, Lady Arya," Dacey said, trying to pull her into the dance floor, "you have to dance!"

 

"But I can't! I am a terrible dancer, my sister says I have two left feet," she admitted with a bit of shame, "please don't make me dance," she pleaded.

 

"Nonsense," Alysanne shook her head. "You must dance, little she-wolf, this feast was made in your honor, you can't stay on your seat all night!"

 

"She's right, it would be rude," Lyanna said, and her usual tight lips curved into a big smile. "Besides, Dacey is a great dancer and a wonderful teacher, don't you wish to prove your sister wrong?"

 

It was a challenge, Arya knew, and she wasn't going to be defeated by a little dancing.

 

"You wish to be a water dancer, don't you?" Dacey asked her. "Well, the first step to become one is to know how to dance. If you can't, then maybe you are not water dancer at all."

 

"Fine, I'll do it, I'll dance," she said, determined, encouraged by their cheers and smiles.

 

"Wonderful!" Dacey exclaimed. "You'll have a long line of partners wishing to dance with you by the end of the feast, you'll see," she winked at her and pulled her towards the dance floor, Lyra and Jory followed them close behind.

 

As the tune of The Bear and the Maiden Fair started, Arya smiled. That was not a song her Septa would approve or one her sister would wish to dance to, and that was exactly what made dancing appealing to her for the first time, so she let herself enjoy the music, not caring if she had two left feet or four, and she laughed, and she only stopped dancing when her feet hurt.

 

 

*

 

Arya never imagined leaving Bear Island would pain her as much as leaving Winterfell did. She was happy to go home, but sad to leave what she had found there. It was not only freedom what the Island had given her, but also love and acceptance and a sense of belonging.

 

She had been allowed to be herself for the first time, to say what she thought without being ridiculed or punished for it. She had learned that being a woman was more than pretty dresses and polite words, she understood that there wasn't anything wrong with wanting to wield a sword, and that babes did not care if their mothers didn't wear skirts or have pretty hair.

 

She realized a woman could live, rule and be happy without a husband by her side and that no one had the right to judge her for it.

 

Above all, she had finally experienced the warm complicity of having sister and the unconditional love of a mother.

 

Arya wasn't sure she could live without those again.

 

As she said goodbye to Lyanna, her tears began to fall.

 

"Don't cry, we will see each other again, I promise."

 

"Swear it."

 

"I swear," Lyanna said before pulling Arya into a tight hug.

 

They let go of each other and Arya moved closer to Lady Mormont.

 

"There, there, she-wolf," the woman patted Arya's arms softly. "Dry those tears."

 

Arya did as she was told, sniffing a couple of times.

 

"Look at me," Lady Mormont asked her.

 

Arya met her eyes and she found nothing but love in them.

 

"You, my sweet girl, will always be welcome here. Bear Island will always have a place for you, if you ever need it."

 

Arya nodded. "Thank you, my lady."

 

She smiled. "You are a true Northerner, a She-wolf, don't let anyone convince you otherwise, understood?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Go on now, your family needs you back."

 

Lady Mormont leaned to press a kiss on Arya's forehead and then she pushed her away gently. Arya thought she saw a tear falling down her cheek, but she couldn't be sure.

 

Arya mounted her horse, said goodbye for the last time and did not look back, afraid she would wish to stay forever if she did.

 

As the party traveled back to the coast, where Jory and the rest of the men from Winterfell were waiting for her, Arya thought of all the things she had experienced for the first time on the island. Her first sparring lesson, her first hunting trip, her first moon blood, even her first kiss, all of this and more she had lived away from her family and her home, and Arya was glad, even grateful, for it.

 

She smiled when she remembered one of her last conversations with Jon. He had been right. Bear Island proved to be the perfect place for adventures.

 

 

*

 

When Eddard Stark saw his youngest daughter riding into the courtyard, with her hair lose and wearing breeches, his heart skipped a beat.

 

_Lya._

 

For one short moment, he felt like a boy again. For one second, his sister had come back to life.

 

Arya dismounted her white horse with ease and ran straight into his arms.

 

"Father!"

 

Eddard Stark wrapped his arms tightly around her and cried for the first time in years.

 

Life had taken so much from him; his mother, his father, his eldest brother, his sweet sister, but the old gods had blessed him with this child, his lovely wolf blooded girl who reminded him so much of all the people he had lost.

 

"Is it really you, Father? Tell me I'm not dreaming," she pleaded, between laughter and tears.

 

His chest felt heavy. Arya was so much like his sister. "It's me. And you are not dreaming, you are home."

 

Arya looked up to meet his eyes. "I missed you so much, Father."

 

"I missed you, too," he told her, before pressing a kiss on her forehead. "Arya, where are the others? Please tell me you did not leave them on Bear Island," he smiled.

 

"I did not," she chuckled. "They are just too slow and I couldn't wait any longer to see you! Where-" her words were cut short.

 

"Arya? Is that you?"

 

"Jon!"

 

His daughter let go of him only to find herself tightly wrapped in Jon's embrace.

 

"You look different," Jon said to her, meeting his eyes with awe and wonder, "are you sure you are my little sister?"

 

Arya pulled away from Jon for moment as a grin split her lips.

 

"I'm not so little anymore, am I?" She smiled. "You will have to call me something else," she said with a twinkle in her eye.

 

"You will always be my little sister, no matter what," Jon assured her, caressing her cheek.

 

The way his daughter and Jon looked at each other was as painful as it was beautiful.

 

"Come," he told them, surrounding them with his arms, "let's go inside."

 

"You have to tell me about all the things that happened while I was gone."

 

"Oh, where to begin?" Jon heaved a dramatic sigh. "Rickon bit Septa Mordane," he told her, trying and failing to hide his amusement.

 

"He did? Why?" Arya asked, biting the inside of her cheeks to stop herself from laughing.

 

"It was an accident," he said, trying to excuse the wild behavior of his youngest son.

 

Arya narrowed her grey eyes. "Of course."

 

"Mikken has a new apprentice," Jon continued.

 

"He does? What is he like?"

 

"Quiet and strong as a bull," Jon replied. "He's from King's Landing."

 

"What is he doing so far from home?"

 

Jon shrugged. "I don't know, looking for a good job I suppose."

 

"Don't worry, I'll figure it out," Arya assured him.

 

"No, you won't," he warned his daughter, "you will leave that boy alone."

 

"Yes, Father," she told him, but her face said the opposite.

 

Eddard Stark closed his eyes and prayed his daughter would listen to him, just this once.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Yes, I stole some book and show dialogue, sue me!)
> 
> Based on the prompt: "Would it be possible to convince you to write a one-shot of Arya being fostered at Bear Island? She would have so many older women to look up to, that would show her that having the title "Lady" did not have to mean you had to be pretty and feminine, and she would have a playmate in Lyanna, and she wouldn't be bullied by a southron septa."
> 
> Ngl, I got too caught up in the Arya/Jon/Ned feels (to compensate for the fuckery the show did with Arya and Jon's relationship) and lost the focus of the story. The last part was too short and written in a rush, but I really wanted to finish this before the inspiration left me. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	44. Lannister Red

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short and silly.

 

 

"What?" Arya asked Gendry with a slight tone of annoyance in her voice and her brow furrowed softly.

 

"I didn't say anything," he replied defensively.

 

"I'm not your Anatomy book yet you keep looking at me," she said, "is something wrong with my face?"

 

Gendry hesitated for a moment before speaking. "What happened to your mouth?" He looked at her with a curiousity. "Is that blood? Did you get into a fight again?" he asked her, a bit of a worried look on his face.

 

She bit her lip. It wasn't blood, just lip gloss. It had been Wylla's idea and Arya knew from the start it wasn't going to help her at all.

 

Well, the lip gloss _did_ help, just not in the way Wylla had imagined. No amount of _Lannister Red Lip Gloss_ would make her irresistible as the magazine ads said, and it definitely wasn't going to make her attractive enough for Gendry to kiss her passionately. The worst was she had wasted twenty five silver stags in the most useless product she had ever owned. It had been almost as bad as the time she had spent almost all her savings on that stupid iron coin she bought at the fair in Harrenhal.

 

"No, I didn't," she said, "this is just lip gloss."

 

"Lip gloss?" He looked painfully confused.

 

Arya rolled her eyes. "Yes, lip gloss, something you put on your lips to make them look good." She couldn't believe she had just said that.

 

"What for? You lips looked fine to me before."

 

She blushed. This was not only stupid, it was also extremely embarrassing for her. "It is supposed to make your lips look thicker, shiny, more kissable," she said in a rush.

 

Arya wished someone or something would hit her hard on the head, and maybe that would stop her from saying such stupid bullshit.

 

"More kissable?"

 

"Yeah."

 

Gendry's curious look turned serious. "Are you planning to kiss someone, Arya?"

 

"Yes," she gulped.

 

"Who?" Gendry's thick eyebrows met in a deep frown.

 

"I can't tell you, it's a secret."

 

"You never keep secrets from me," he said, and while there was a tone of anger in his voice, he looked disappointed, even hurt. "Does Jon know?"

 

She shook her head.

 

"Who is this guy?"

 

"Just someone," she shrugged.

 

"Just someone?" He huffed, closing his books and pushing the chair he was sitting on away from the table. "I hope it's not that rat faced Frey or that stupid Dornish guy."

 

"He's not stupid!" Arya exclaimed angrily. "Ned is very smart!"

 

"It's him, isn't it?" Gendry spoke deeply. "It's Dayne the one you want to kiss."

 

Arya shook her head and looked away, rubbing her lips together, tasting the fruit flavlored lip gloss.

 

"Stop doing that," he told her, sounding and looking annoyed.

 

Arya looked sharply at him. "What?"

 

"Biting your lip!"

 

"I'm not biting my lip, I'm just eating the lip gloss."

 

"Why would you eat that thing?"

 

"Because it tastes good and it's edible, supposedly," she said to him with a small grin.

 

"What does it taste like?"

 

"I don't know," she shrugged, "like fruit."

 

"Which one?"

 

She didn't reply. Arya thought this was the most stupid conversation they had ever had. She needed to improve it somehow.

 

It was now or never.

 

She stood up and walked a few steps until she was standing right between his legs. Gendry looked up at her, blinking rapidly, clearly taken by surprise. Arya grinned wickedly. She pulled him by the collar of his shirt and leaned down, stopping right before their mouths met.

 

"You can figure it out yourself," she told him decidedly, just before pressing her lips to his.

 

Their kiss was sloppy and awkward until Gendry took her face in one of his hands, tilting her head to the side, and then it was perfect. Their mouths met at the right angle and Arya lost herself to the feeling of his lips. She rested one of her knees at the edge of the chair and her arms let go of his shirt only to wrap themselves around his heck. Gendry placed his big hands on her hips and brought her closer to him and, as their kiss grew deeper, his fingers dug deeper into her skin.

 

Their tongues met for a moment, something Arya enjoyed, but she soon realized she wanted to try something different. If this were to be the first and last time he let her kiss him, then she was going to make the most of it. She suck on his bottom lip softly and then bit him, hard. He groaned and wrapped his storng arms around her waist in response.

 

Arya was just beginning to wonder if Gendry could feel her hardened nipples through the thin fabric of her tank top, when Jon's cheerful yelling broke the spell.

 

"The pizza is coming!"

 

Arya had never moved faster, not even during her fencing competitions. She pushed herself away from Gendry and just stood there, not knowing what to say, afraid he was going to mock her.

 

"Cherry," Gendry said, breathing fast, a foolish smile on his lips. "It tastes like cherry."

 

"Stupid," she muttered softly and ran upstairs. She wasn't hungry anymore and she didn't want to deal with Jon's questioning looks.

 

"Where's Arya?" Jon said, placing the jumbo sized pizza on top of the table."I got her all the toppings she-" he stopped talking once he looked closely at his friend. "What happened to your lips? Is that blood?" Jon asked him, looking a little grossed out, "were you trying to eat your lips or what? couldn't you just wait until the pizza arrived?"

 

Gendry laughed out loud. If only his best friend knew.

 

*

 

As it was her daily routine, Arya checked her phone just before going to bed. Right away she noticed she had one missed text message.

 

It was from Gendry.

 

She looked at the screen for a couple of minutes, trying to decide if it was a good idea to read whatever he had to say.

 

"Fuck it," she muttered and finally opened his message.

 

_Does the lip gloss come in different flavors? I would like to try them all. If you wear them of course._

 

Arya laughed and plopped into the bed, clutching her phone close to her chest. Those silver stags had been well spent after all.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this to sort of compensate for the lack of otp in the previous story.


	45. Her mother's daughter

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A reader requested this ages ago, but the muse hasn't been kind lately, haha. 
> 
> bluerose91, I hope you like it, though I'm not sure if I filled your prompt the way you wanted.

 

 

Lyarra was getting ready for her uncle Bran's name day feast. As the King in the North, the celebrations for his birthday were a grand and joyous affair, and Lyarra, like all her siblings and cousins, was expected to look the part.

 

She decided to wear her best dress for the occasion and she had made sure her boots were perfectly clean and polished. She had even pinched her cheeks several times to ensure her pale face had some color in them. Her hair, however, was proving to be a bit of a problem, as it usually was.

 

For hours she had been trying to twist her hair into an intricate knot in the back of her head, but her long black mane was simply not cooperating with her.

 

She huffed, frustrated with herself and her clumsy fingers, and let go of her hair with a defeated sigh, her arms tired by the effort. The thick tresses fell around her face and over her shoulders like a dark waterfall, framing her features beautifully.

 

As she heard someone knocking on her door, she quickly pinned her rebellious locks with the silver combs her father had made for her on her last name day.

 

"Come in, I'm almost ready!"

 

"What is taking you so long?" Her mother asked her, stepping into the room. "The feast is about to begin."

 

"I'm sorry, Mother," she apologized, tucking in a couple of loose strands. She stood up, smoothing down the non existent wrinkles on her skirt, and walked towards the door where her mother was waiting for her.

 

Her mother smiled apologetically and stopped her from leaving the room.

 

"Come here," she told her. "I'll help you," she said, before she made her sit in front of the mirror one more time.

 

"Mother, it's not necessary, I-"

 

"It's only fair. You got my hair after all."

 

Lyarra looked at her mother with wide eyes, surprised by her statement. "But everyone says I got Father's hair."

 

"You got his coloring, but this messy hair," she told her, caressing her locks between her fingers, "is all my fault," she chuckled, easily parting and braiding Lyarra's hair into a bun.

 

Through the mirror, Lyarra looked at her mother's skillful hands with wonder and awe. She was surprised by how easily she was able to work her hair into something elegant and pretty.

 

"How did you become so good at this, Mother? Did Grandmother teach you how?" She asked her with a smile, but the smile quickly fell off her face as she noticed how her mother's expression turned sad, though she tried to hide it. Lyarra bit her lip, feeling ashamed. "I'm sorry, Mother, I did not mean to hurt you."

 

"Don't be sorry," her mother told her, squeezing her shoulders softly, reassuringly. She sat by her side and pressed a kiss to her temple. "My mother never really made an effort to teach me how to style my hair, I was very young and didn't care much for it, and I suppose she thought it was a lost cause," she chuckled, but Lyarra could see the sadness in her eyes. "Then I went South with your grandfather and your aunt, and we never saw each other again." She made a pause, choosing her words carefully. "After that, while I was away, I had all sorts of jobs and learned all kinds of skills, and doing other people's hair was the easiest of them all," she finished.

 

It was not a common thing to hear her mother talk about the things she did and went through while she had been living across the Narrrow Sea, so Lyarra always treasured the little glimpses of her mother's past life no matter how painful they could be sometimes. Her father was no different, though he was a little more open whenever he decided to share his experiences as a member of the Brotherhood Withtout Banners. Both of her parents had lived difficult childhoods, and while neither made an effort to shield Lyarra and her siblings from knowing the horrors of the war and the human selfishness, it was clear they didn't want to share their most painful memories with them, not yet. Lyarra hoped that one day the heaviness in her parents' hearts would disappear forever.

 

She felt like crying. But she wouldn't cry, she couldn't, not when her mother and father had been so brave. "I'm sure she would have taught you how if you had been together," Lyarra tried to comfort her. She felt useless.

 

Her mother smiled sadly at her. "Perhaps, though she was never fond of this nest I have for hair."

 

"Is that why you keep your hair short?" Lyarra asked her, a soft frown on her face.

 

"No, I keep it short because it's practical."

 

"Well, you should let it grow, your hair is lovely," she said. "Father loves your hair and so does Jon. I still remember when he was a babe and how he wouldn't fall asleep unless he could caress your hair to sleep."

 

"Gods, don't remind me of that," she laughed and stood up, she pinned the silver combs back into Lyarra's hair and smiled, pleased by her work, "there, you are ready."

 

Lyarra looked at herself in the mirror briefly, before setting her eyes on her mother's beautiful face, and she wondered if she would ever be half the woman her mother was. She knew she wasn't brave or smart enough to be like her. She wasn't a good rider, nor was she interested in swords. She wasn't fierce or fearless like most Northerners were. Sometimes she even felt like she was no Stark at all.

 

"What's wrong? You don't like it?"

 

Lyarra turned around and met her mother's eyes shyly. "Mother, I . . ."

 

"Yes?"

 

"I wish I could be more like you," she confessed.

 

"Oh, Lya," her mother shook her head, "don't say that."

 

"But it's true!"

 

"You, my sweet, are perfect the way you are," her mother assured her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "I love you for who you are and so does you father and your siblings, don't wish to be any different, it won't make you happy."

 

A tear rolled down Lyarra's cheek and she pressed her face softly against her mother's chest, inhaling her familiar and comforting scent. "I love you, Mother," she whispered.

 

"I love you too, my sweet wolf," she told her with a smile. "Come now, no more tears, today is a happy day and they are waiting for us."

 

"Yes, Mother," Lya said, standing up, wiping her tears away with delicate touches.

 

Mother and daughter walked out of the room, though the older woman remained by the door.

 

Lyarra stopped right before the stairs, missing her mother's presence by her side. "Mother, aren't you coming?"

 

"I will in a moment, I forgot something in my room."

 

"I could get it for you if you wish."

 

"No, go on, make sure your siblings don't get into trouble."

 

"Yes, Mother," Lyarra gave her mother one last smile before she hurried downstairs, where the feast was just starting.

 

"I know you are there," Lyarra's mother said after she was gone, aware of her husband's presence.

 

He chuckled and walked around the corner. "She is just like you, only proper," he told her.

 

"Shut up," her feisty nature left her as soon as she felt her husband's strong arms surrounding her and the gentle touch of his hands over her swollen belly. "Did you hear everything?"

 

"I did," he said, pressing soft kisses down her neck.

 

"I worry for her, she thinks she's not good enough," she bit her lip, "I feel like I failed her," the guilt could be heard in her voice.

 

Her husband pressed one last warm kiss to her neck before he turned her around, so their eyes could meet. "No, you didn't, so don't you dare believe otherwise," he warned her.

 

"I know exactly how she feels and I don't want her to try to become someone else," she told him, sounding almost scared. "You don't know how many times I wished I could be more like my sister, not because I truly wanted to be like her, but just so my mother would look at me with pride, so she would knock on my door before going to bed to brush my hair and tell me how much she loved me. I fear I have hurt Lya and I didn't even notice," she spoke softly, trying not to cry.

 

Her husband shook his head and kissed her full on the lips. His kiss was calming and comforting and she felt guilty for finding pleasure in a moment like this.

 

He broke off the kiss before they could tore off the clothes of each other and gave her a smile. "Arya, my sweet, silly wife," he murmured close to her lips, "Lya doesn't want to be someone else, she just wants to be more like her mother, she wants to make you proud," he assured her.

 

"I _am_ proud of her," she said.

 

"Yes, but she doesn't know it."

 

She frowned. "But why would she want to be like me?"

 

"Why?" He rolled his eyes. "Because you are the She-Wolf of Winterfell, the girl who saved the North with her pack of wolves, the heroine they sing about in the songs," he sighed and took her face between his hands, "but above all, she wants to be like you because you are her mother and she adores you, and in her eyes, as in mine, you are the most wonderful woman."

 

Because she couldn't help herself, she started sobbing.

 

Her husband let out a chuckle and brought her closer to him, wrapping his arms softly around her, mindful of her swollen stomach. "She is so much like you, only she is too blind to notice. She's loving, selfless and stubborn, but because she loves her dresses and prefers singing to riding, she believes she is not worthy. Definitely her mother's daughter."

 

"Shut up, you stupid bull," she muttered against his chest.

 

"There, that's my wife," he laughed.

 

"I'll talk to her tomorrow, make sure she understands."

 

"Good," he said, letting go of her to take one of her soft hands in his. "Let's go, we don't want to waste any more time," he said, pulling her towards their bedroom.

 

"What are you doing? We're going to be late!" she exclaimed.

 

"Then we better hurry up," he winked at her, pushing her softly inside their chamber.

 

She didn't put much of a fight.

 

 


	46. Mr. Waters

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Nothing amazing, just trying to get my mojo back.

 

 

Arya took a long, calming breath right before she pushed the elevator button. 

 

_You_ _can do_ _it_ _,_ _t_ _his_ _is_ _only_ _a_ _temporary_ _thing_ _and_ _you_ _need_ _the_ _money_ , she reminded herself for the tenth time while she waited for the lift to arrive. 

 

The doors opened and in she went. She stood right in the middle, tugging anxiously at the straps of her backpack, her eyes locked on the changing floor numbers.  

 

_It's_ _not_ _the_ _end_ _of_ _the_ _world_ _,_ _stupid_ _,_ _get_ _over_ _yourself_ _._  

 

The doors opened again and she heaved a deep sigh right before stepping out of the elevator. She took out of her pocket the little piece of paper where she had written the address of her next prospect and read it a few times, wanting to be sure she got the right apartment this time. 

 

_Mr._ _Waters_ _._ _Apartment_ _7B._  

 

She walked slowly towards the end of the corridor, wondering what sort of man would hire a uni student with little to no experience for something like this. 

 

Still, Arya hoped he would become a regular in her almost non existent list of clients. He was willing to pay a lot for her services, so she knew this was not going to be easy for her, but money was money and she needed lots of it. 

 

She knocked softly on the door three times and scrunched up her nose in disgust. That's what her old Septa would have asked her to do, the _polite_ _way_ of knocking on someone's door. Arya shook herself, as if that would help to erase her teachings from her head, and knocked on the door harder and faster. 

 

Her hand was about to hit the door for the fifth time when someone answered.  

 

"Hello," the man who opened the door greeted her, "Miss Stark, I presume?" he asked her with a kind smile. 

 

Arya's eyes went wide. The man was fit _and_ attractive, and she wasn't expecting that at all. She was usually welcomed by exasperated looking men and wornout women with tired expressions.  

 

"Miss Stark?" He repeated, looking for confirmation. 

 

_She's_ _talking_ _to_ _you_ _!_ her brain screamed at her. "Y-Yes, that's me!" She said, sounding a little too eager.  

 

"Oh, great, please come in!" He looked half relieved half nervous. "I hope you didn't have a hard time finding the apartment, Miss Stark," he told her. 

 

"No, not at all," she shook her head. "And please, call me Arya." 

 

She went inside the apartment and took a quick look around, as she usually did, looking for any sign that screamed danger, but there wasn't any, not at first sight at least. The place was clean and modestly furnished, and quiet. Arya frowned softly. The place was _too_ quiet and she wasn't sure if that was good sign or not. 

 

"Please take a sit, make yourself comfortable, I'll come back in a minute." 

 

"Thank you," she said and her grey eyes focused on his magnificient backside as soon as he turned around. 

 

_Damn_ _,_ _t_ _hat_ _is_ _some_ _good_ _ass_ _,_ she could feel herself starting to salivate _,_ _I_ _bet_ _his_ _thighs_ _are_ _just_ _as_ _wonderful_ _,_ _the_ _things_ _I_ _would_ _do_ _. . . Oh_ _for_ _fuck's_ _sake,_ _get_ _your_ _mind_ _out_ _of_ _the_ _gutter_ _!_ She shook her head rapidly, surpressing her thoughts, and dropped her backpack on the floor. 

 

She was just starting to relax when the man came back, only this time he wasn't alone. 

 

"Arya, this is my son, Jon," he told her, letting go of his child's hand and pushing him towards her. 

 

_Jon._ She felt her heart tighten at the sound of the boy's name. Arya stood up and moved a couple of steps closer to the child, feeling a little more confident. "Hello Jon," she greeted him a bit awkwardly, "I'm going to be your nanny for tonight," she told him, bending down so she could be at his eye level. 

 

The boy regarded her in silence, his deep blue eyes sligthly narrowed. "You are ugly," he stated casually after a short moment of uncomfortable silence. 

 

"Jon!"  

 

_Little_ _shit_ _._ "Tell me something I haven't heard before," she forced herself to smile.  

 

"Jon, you will apologize right in this moment!"  

 

"Don't worry, Mister Waters, it's fine, he's just a kid." 

 

"No, it's not fine," he said, frowning. "Jon, what do you have to say?" 

 

The little kid looked up at his dad and then turned to look at Arya. "I'm sorry," he apologized, but he didn't sound sorry at all. 

 

"I apologize, my son is not very fond of having a nanny around." 

 

"It's okay, I get him, I grew up with a Septa bossing me around all day every day of my childhood," she offered the kid a sympathetic smile, "I understand his. . . uneasiness." 

 

"Thank you," he said, still a bit mortified by his child's offense. Mr. Waters looked at his watch and quickly grabbed his coat from the back of a chair. "I have to go now, there's food in the fridge, but if you prefer to order some Dornish or Tyroshi, just call and they will charge the food to me. The numbers are next to the phone." 

 

"Okay," she said. 

 

Mr. Waters stopped before opening the door and called for his son. "Jon, come here." 

 

The boy walked reluctanly towards his father, with a grumpy look on his face. Arya would have found the kid cute if he wasn't a little asshole. 

 

"I'll be back soon," the man said, kneeling in front of his son, "be good to Arya, she will take care of you, all right?"  

 

The boy kept her eyes down and just nodded. The man took his son's chubby face between his hands and pressed a kiss to his furrowed brown. "Be good," he repeated and then looked up at Arya with a worried expression that bordered on guilt.  

 

She found that odd.  

 

"We'll be fine," Arya assured him, moving to stand behind the child, "I grew up surrounded by four brothers and I always had a great time. Jon and I will enjoy ourselves." 

 

"I'm sure you will," Mr. Waters replied, trying to put a smile on his face. "I'll be back before eleven. Call me if you need anything." 

 

Arya nodded.  

 

Mr. Waters looked at his child one last time before leaving the apartment. 

 

"Well," Arya said, exhaling softly, getting herself ready, "what do you want to do? do you have any homework?"  

 

The boy turned around and shook his head. His frown still intact. 

 

Arya sat on the couch and patted the empty space beside her, inviting him closer. She wasn't sure he would come, but after a moment of hesitation, the boy went to sit by her side. "Why are you upset? Do you really hate nannies so much?" 

 

The boy shook his head once more.  

 

"Then what's the matter?" she asked him. "Your dad will be back soon and you and I can have fun while we wait for him, we can do anything you want, what do you say?" 

 

"Anything I want?" The boy met her eyes, doubting her words. 

 

Arya thought that her offer had been, perhaps, a bad idea, but if she wanted to have some peace tonight, she needed to win the kid over. "Yeah, anything you wish." 

 

"Do you know any spells?" The child asked her in all seriousness. 

 

"Spells?"

 

He nodded. "I read a story in which a red priest brought a dead woman back to life with a spell. I want to do that too." 

 

_What_ _kind_ _of_ _books_ _are_ _children_ _reading_ _these_ _days_ _?_ "Um, but why would you want to do that?" 

 

"Do you know any spells or not?"  

 

_So_ _rude_ _._ "Who do you want to bring back from the dead?" Arya pressed, curiosity written all over her face.  

 

"My mommy," the kid replied, not meeting her eyes this time. 

 

_Shit_ _._ Arya bit her lip, unsure of what to say. She wished her brother Bran were here, he was the one who always knew the right thing to say, unlike her. "I don't know any spells, but I know something better." 

 

"What?" The boy asked her with a frown. 

 

"Well, are there any heart trees around here? We can find one and you could talk to her through it," she suggested with a small smile, hoping her idea would be well received and that it would make the kid feel better.  

 

The boy did not look impressed at all.  

 

"That's stupid, trees are stupid, I knew you would be useless," he said, rolling his eyes and standing up.   

 

Arya's jaw almost hit the floor. The child was the ruddest, most insufferable little brat she had ever babysat. Septa Mordane would have got a heart attack if Arya had ever spoken to her like that. She took a few calming breaths, counted up to ten, and let go of her anger.  

 

She spoke of all sudden, not thinking twice about what she was going to say. "My mom is dead too." 

 

The kid stopped and turned around slowly. 

 

"Both of my parents are gone, in fact," she said. "I know how you feel, I was angry as well." 

 

Jon refused to meet her eyes. "Does the anger ever go away?" he asked her, his voice very soft. 

 

"No." 

 

He looked at her then, and his eyes were all fear and sadness. In that moment, Arya saw the angry little boy for what he really was: a scared child left motherless who couldn't get back the person he needed the most. She had been like him once. She knew he needed to be reassured, but he also needed honesty. She had been let down so many times, she had had her hopes and dreams broken by so many adults, she was not going to do the same to him. 

 

"No?" He asked again. 

 

"No," she shook her head, "but there will come a day in which you won't feel so angry anymore. As the time goes by, all the anger you feel now will grow smaller and smaller, and you will be capable of feeling other things, of loving other people. Some days, you will feel the anger coming back, but it won't be as bad as it is now, I promise," she smiled at him. 

 

The little boy nodded and sat by her side again. He remained still and quiet. 

 

"So, Jon," Arya stood up, hoping she could cheer him up a little, "what do you want to do? You certainly don't want to wait for your dad stuck on the couch, right?"  

 

Jon looked up at Arya. "No." 

 

"Well, what should we play?" 

 

He shrugged. 

 

"What about _Hide the Treasure_?" 

 

"That's boring!" 

 

" _Monsters and Maidens?_ " 

 

"Mmm... okay, but only if you play the monster," he said cheekily. 

 

Arya narrowed her eyes at him playfully. "Deal. Are you ready? You better start running!" 

 

Jon screamed and jumped off the couch, while Arya laughed, running behind him. 

 

 

* 

 

When Mr. Waters came home to a very quiet house, he got scared, silence was always a bad sign. He opened the door of his apartment without making a noise and slowly poked his head inside, expecting the worst. 

 

The house was indeeed a mess, with food wrappers and toys thrown everywhere, but apart from that, everything looked fine. 

 

He walked in and what he found in the living room made him chuckle. His son's babysitter was soundly asleep, an open Criminal Law book resting on her chest, with a unibrow and mustache drawn with marker on her long face. He covered his mouth with his hand, trying to keep his chuckle in, and went to find a blanket. 

 

He came back a couple of minutes later and placed the blanket over his son, who was resting on the opposite side of the couch, with his hands tucked closely to his chest, his usual frown replaced by a little smile. Mr. Waters felt warm all of a sudden. He leaned down and shook softly the girl's shoulder. 

 

"Miss Stark, wake up, I'm back." 

 

The girl moved a little, nodding her head. "It's Arya," she mumbled, half asleep. 

 

He grinned. "You should wash, my son made a mess of your face." 

 

She smiled a sleepy smile . "It's okay, can't get any uglier," she replied. 

 

He frowned. She _had_ to be joking. "You are very pretty," he assured her, his brain clearly not properly connected to his mouth. When he noticed the red on her cheeks, he immediately regretted his words, not because they were lies, but because he had just found a nanny who could deal with his son's wild ways and now he had ruined it. She probably thought he was one of those perverted fathers who tried to get inside the nanny's pants.  

 

"You have to say that because you are my employer," she snorted, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, trying to make the moment less awkward. 

 

"Actually, I shouldn't have said that because I am your employer." 

 

Their eyes met, his expression worried, hers shy and unsure.  

 

She cleared her throat softly and excused herself to go to the bathroom.   

 

He sat by his son's side, still mortified, and rubbed his chubby cheek softly, "Sweet dreams, little man." 

 

He made a call while she was in the bathroom and waited for her to return. 

 

"Well, I have to go."  

 

He turned a little, careful not to wake his son, so he could be face to face with her. _She's_ _very_ _pretty_ _. More_ _than_ _pretty_ _,_ he thought as he looked at her now clean face carefully. He shook his head, shaking off those thoughts from his mind. "Sure," he said, standing up, "let me get my wallet and-" 

 

"About that," Arya interrupted him, "this one is on the house," she grinned, looking at Jon. 

 

"No way," he refused, "absolutely not. Jon is a handful, you deserved each and every one of these stags," he told her. "And I won't take a no for an answer, I remember my student days and how much I needed every single penny I could get. This is yours," he said, handing the money to her. 

 

Arya couldn't disagree. As much as she had enjoyed being Jon's nanny, she really needed the money. "Thanks." 

 

He nodded. 

 

"Can I use your phone to call a taxi?" 

 

"Don't worry, I already called one, it should be here soon." 

 

"Thank you," she smiled. "Well, I should go outside and wait for it," Arya said, gathering her things. "Say goodbye to Jon for me, please?" 

 

"I will, don't worry." 

 

"Well, it was a pleasure, Mister Waters," she extended her hand to him. 

 

He took it, feeling the warmth of her soft, little hand in his. "Please, call me Gendry." 

 

"Gendry," she said softly. "Goodbye." 

 

"Goodbye," he said, but he forgot to let go of her hand. 

 

She chuckled as she freed her hand from his. "Call me if you ever need me again," she told him right before walking out of the door. 

 

"I will," he promised. 

 

He closed the door and pressed his forehead against it. 

 

"Papa?" 

 

He turned around and found his son rubbing his sleepy face.  

 

"Where's Arya?" 

 

"She had to go home." 

 

"Oh . . ." 

 

His son looked sad, even disappointed.  

 

"Is she never coming back?" 

 

Mr. Waters felt a knot on his stomach. "She will, next time I need someone to take care of you, she will come." He sat on the couch and wrapped his arm around his son. Jon was a big boy for his age and sometimes it was easy to forget he was just a little kid. "She's nice, isn't she?" 

 

His son nodded eagerly. "She's very funny and she likes playing _Wildings_ with me," he said excitedly. 

 

"Does she really?" 

 

"Yes! And she's pretty too," Jon said and he looked up to meet his eyes, "but dont tell her that, she hates when people tell her she is pretty, she told me." 

 

Gendry gulped. "Did she tell you why?" 

 

"No, but she is pretty, isn't she?" 

 

"She is," he agreed. "Now, tell me, what made you change your mind? You didn't think she was pretty at first sight," he told his son, with a slight scolding tone. 

 

"She looks like Mommy," he said softly. 

 

Jon's words felt like knives. Arya looked nothing like his mother, but his son wanted to believe she did. Mr. Waters held his boy closer and pressed a kiss to the top of his head. Now more than ever he knew he had to find a way to keep Arya in his son's life, he had to wash away from Jon's mind the memory of his mother.  

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From the prompt, "hot single dad hires broke babysitter."
> 
> As you can tell, the muse is kind of dead, I even struggled with the title, lmao. Hopefully, soon I'll be able to write stories more worthy of your attention, until next time!


	47. Drowning Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a bit boring, but boring is all I can write atm.

 

He pressed his lips on hers once, twice, testing, making sure his mind wasn't playing tricks on him, hoping she wasn't making a fool of him. He kissed her hungrily, pushing his mouth hard on hers, his tongue eager and curious, begging to explore her mouth.

 

She let him in and soon their tongues were dancing together, teasing each other. She found the feeling odd at first, but she quickly got used to it, finding this new sensation exciting and even satisfying in a way that made the bottom of her stomach twitch with pleasure.

 

They broke the kiss off after a while as they were running out of breath, however, they kept their eyes on each other, smiling foolishly and breathing hard.

 

Gendry ran the tip of his finger over her cheekbone before he lowered his face to kiss her on the same spot. He continued pressing kisses to her jaw, her nose, her brow. She let him. She was enjoying herself too much to stop him. When his lips found the spot under her ear and he started sucking soflty on her wet skin, she locked her arms around him again.

 

And she moaned, _loudly._

 

"You like that?" He whispered softly into her ear.

 

She nodded.

 

He pressed one last kiss to her temple and moved to rest his arms on each side of her head, hovering over her, looking into her lovely face.

 

"I wish I could keep you," he smiled sadly. "I wish you were real."

 

She scowled at him. "Do you still think I'm not real?" She asked him furiously.

 

He said nothing.

 

So she hit him, hard.

 

"Did it hurt?"

 

"Fuck... Seven Hells!" Gendry rubbed the spot on his cheek where she had hit him with the back of her hand. When he looked at his fingers, he noticed they were stained with red.

 

"My fins are sharp," she told him.

 

"I can see that now," he moved to sit on the sand and she did the same.

 

"I'm sorry," she quickly apologized, pressing her lips to his jaw. At the contact, he flinched and moved away from her. Arya bit her lip. "Gendry," she called him, "I am sorry, I shouldn't have done that, please forgive me."

 

He gave her a small nod.

 

Arya pressed a kiss on his shoulder and was relieved when he didn't recoil from her touch. "I'll make it better, please stay here."

 

"Where would I go?" She heard him whisper with a slight tone of annoyance.

 

She returned to the sea and came back a few minutes later, bringing with her a pretty looking seashell. She opened it and took a bit of the white paste that was inside with her fingertips, and she rubbed it softly over his cuts.

 

Gendry felt the sting disappear almost immediately.

 

"Better?"

 

He nodded.

 

"Do you still believe I'm not real? That your mind is playing tricks with you?" She asked him, refusing to meet his eyes, afraid of what she could find in them.

 

He shook his head and smiled at her. "No, I believe you are real. Still, I can't keep you. A man may love a mermaid, but where would they build a home together?"

 

She bit her lip. He was right, but she was stubborn. If the gods had put him on her way then she was sure they were meant to be together. "Do you know what this is?" She asked him, showing him the pearl.

 

"A pearl," he replied.

 

"Yes, but it's more than that. It means you are mine, and I yours."

 

"How?" he frowned.

 

"It's a long story and I promise to tell you all about it, but tell me first, do you think you could learn to love the sea?"

 

"I . . ." he hesitated, "I'm not sure, it almost killed me."

 

"But if I find a way to keep you safe, would you like to make the sea your home?"

 

"Uh, I'm not sure if you know this, but humans can't survive under water."

 

"Don't you think I know? I just saved you from drowning!" She huffed, rolling her eyes. "Besides, merfolk have been taking advantage of that little detail for centuries."

 

"You mean tricking us so we drown?" He asked her, resentment in his voice.

 

"No, doing what we must to protect our kind from you," she retorted.

 

"By killing us," he shot back.

 

She looked at him sharply. Perhaps they were not meant to be together, perhaps the gods were playing with her for all the times she had doubted their existence. Or maybe, life was simply mocking her for all the times she had made fun of her sister for falling in love with men and their world.

 

"Where's your home?" She asked him.

 

"I don't have one."

 

"Where will you live?"

 

He shrugged. "Blacksmiths can find work anywhere, I'll manage."

 

"Well. . . I wish you luck," she told him, not knowing what else to say. "Here, keep this," she said, handing him the pearl, "I know some men value them more than their own lives."

 

"But it's yours," he told her.

 

"I have no use for it," she smiled sadly, "not anymore," she whispered her last words, moving into the sea again. "Stay out of the water or learn how to swim," she adviced him.

 

"Wait!" He exclaimed, running into the sea, stopping once the water reached his knees. "What's your name?"

 

"I'm Arya."

 

He smiled. "Thank you, Arya, for saving me."

 

She smiled back at him, her expression sad but determined.

 

"Wait!"

 

"What?!"

 

"Don't you wish to know my name?"

 

"No," she said, turning her back on him, "I would like to pretend you were just a dream. . . goodbye."

 

She went under the surface and, a moment later, jumped out of the water, letting the sunlight hit her entire body, her grey scales shone brighter than ever and as her tail hit the water, hundreds of drops flew high in the air. She made sure to leave him something he would never forget.

 

A moment later, in the distance, she heard a loud splash behind her. She turned around and saw him swimming after her, or trying to at least. She went back quickly, wondering what was wrong with him that he would do something so stupid. As soon as she reached him, she hugged him close to her chest and pulled him towards the surface and into the shore.

 

"What were you thinking? Are you stupid?" She yelled a him.

 

"Sorry," he coughed, "but I changed my mind."

 

"About what?" She was too angry and worried to consider his words.

 

"About you," he looked into her eyes, "us."

 

A smile formed on her lips as hope began to fill her heart.

 

"This land," he said, taking a fistful of sand, "has given me nothing, on the contrary, it has taken everything from me." He threw the sand away and looked into her eyes, caressing one side of her face. "The sea almost killed me, but it has given me a great gift that makes my life worth living."

 

"What? The pearl?"

 

He snorted. "No, m'lady, not the pearl," he chuckled softly, "it's you."

 

She grinned mischievously and hugged him close to her, enjoying the feel of his skin against her naked chest. "You will love the sea, I promise you. I'll find a witch and she will. . ." she went quiet as she felt his body stiffen. "What is it?" she asked him, moving so she could see his face.

 

"No witches," he shook his head furiously. "I'm done with them."

 

Arya frowned. "Did someone hurt you?"

 

"Yes," was all he said, it was clear he did not wish to speak more about it.

 

She bit her lip. It would be nearly impossible for them to be together if he didn't wish to see a witch. He would have to keep his legs and. . . She was decided, he would keep his legs, but she wouldn't keep her tail. She wouldn't be the first mermaid to do it, she wouldn't even be the first Stark to sacrifice her tail for a man since her aunt had done the same many years before. "I'll find a way, we will be together, I promise."

 

He nodded. "It's Gendry."

 

"What?"

 

"My name."

 

She smiled. "Gendry," she repeated, "I like it." She placed a quick kiss on his lips and rubbed her nose against his. "I'll come back in a few days, will you wait for me?"

 

"Always."

 

"Don't lose the pearl, it will help me to find you."

 

He nodded. "Don't take too long or I'll go looking for you."

 

"Please don't," she begged him.

 

He laughed. "As m'lady commands."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, I stole and slightly altered a quote from Fiddler on the Roof, don't sue me!


End file.
